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by artsakira



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Ed is aged up, M/M, and writing letters, idk how to tag, lots of traveling, takes place after the last episode of Brotherhood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:49:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 31,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27891808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artsakira/pseuds/artsakira
Summary: After the events of the Promised Day, Edward feels the need to have everything figured out. Somehow, all paths lead back home. Whatever or whoever that is to Ed, anyway.
Relationships: Edward Elric/Roy Mustang
Comments: 22
Kudos: 98





	1. Prologue: What Now?

**Author's Note:**

> HEY so I'm new. Well, I've been lurking on the archive for a while, but I'm new to writing. I've had this story sitting in my google drive since like July and I'm finally getting the courage to post it. I'll be separating it into chapters and probably updating like once a week? I'm still working it out. Thanks for reading! ^^

“I was thinking about studying in Xing,” Alphonse said from his hospital bed. He was little more than skin and bones. And in desperate need of a haircut, but they haven’t found the time, yet. There were many things that needed doing that Ed pushed to some future date in his mind. 

“Woah, isn’t it a little soon to be thinking about traveling?” Ed asked. He sat up in the uncomfortable hospital chair. The hospitals have been full of soldiers for the past couple of days since the battle. “The Big Battle.” It was hard for him to wrap his mind around it all being over. Well, there’s still a shit ton to do. Rebuilding and healing and shit. He’s got some visits to make, but he hasn’t thought much further than that. 

“Of course, I’m not leaving tomorrow or anything, but I’ve always wanted to travel. And study. Now that I’ve got my body back, I can do that,” Al said cheerfully. 

“Dontcha want to eat Winry’s apple pie first?” Ed asked. 

“Of course we’re going to stop back in Resembool first! I can’t wait to see Granny and Winry again. I am so tired of hospital food,” Al lamented.

“You mean prison food,” Ed laughed.  
“They’re doing their best,” He defended. Ed eyed the tray of half-eaten food. Yeah, looks like Al is lovin’ it. 

“What are your plans?” Al asked him. It caught him off guard. Ed didn’t have an immediate answer. His life was always focused on getting their bodies back. Surviving until the next day. 

“I’ve got some people to visit. Y’know, some holes to patch n’ stuff,” He replied. 

“But after that?” Al asked. Ed assumed they’d stick together, but Al seemed so excited to go to Xing. Ed didn’t want to cross the desert with his automail or see that weird cat again (what was its name?). There were other locations he’d choose first, but he wouldn’t make Al change his location of choice just because of him.

“I’m thinkin’ bout it. Maybe travel as well. Heard Creta’s great this time of year,” He finally responded. Honestly, he could throw a dart at a map and he wouldn’t wish for it to land anywhere specific. Funny if it landed right here in Central, though. 

“What about Winry?” Al asked deviously. Ed immediately went red.

“What about her? Ed yelled. 

“Oh, nothing,” Al laughed. Ed thought about her. Winry. They fought over her as children. And he always imagined waking up to her apple pie cooling on the window. It was a nice image. He looked up and saw Al looking out the window. Central’s skyline was all pastels this time of day.

“I’m going to miss this place, though,” Al admitted. The orangey light illuminated the deepness of his cheeks. The hollowness of his eyes. Geez, he’s gotta eat more. 

“Yeah. It’ll suck saying goodbye to everybody,” Ed said as he leaned his elbows on his thighs. A million years ago, Ed was anxious about going to such a big city. His determination weighed heavier than his anxieties, but now he can’t fathom why he had any in the first place. He liked Central. There was always noise and proof of life. People were everywhere just living. Whenever they stayed in a hotel here, he liked hearing the cars going by at night. The chatter. It made him feel less alone. 

“I heard Havoc can walk again. And Mustang can see,” Al mentioned, looking away from the window. 

“Good for them,” Ed said offhandedly. He would never use the Philosopher’s Stone on Al or himself, personally. 

“I’m happy for them. It’ll make it a lot easier for Mustang to be Fuhrer with eyesight,” Al added. Ed scoffed.

“Fuery told me Mustang was trying to memorize all the books about Ishval from his hospital bed. He said he was thankful Marcoh stepped in or he would have had to spend countless hours studying with him,” Al laughed. 

“That would suck,” Ed said non-committedly. He remembered Mustang reaching out. Everything turning to darkness. Ed read that losing your sight isn’t like closing your eyes. It’s not just seeing darkness, but no sight at all. Nothing. He hasn’t asked Mustang what it was like, but he doesn’t want to. He just remembers him reaching out towards nothing. Not finding anything. His eyes were unseeing. Those weren’t Mustang’s eyes.

“Winry is going to be so glad when we come home, though, so it won’t be so sad to leave,” Al smiled again. 

“Yeah,” Ed replied. Al shifted and Ed looked at his arms. They were like twigs. That’s a shift from the bulky form of the armor. Maybe Al would still duck from doorways even though he’s so small now. 

“You should eat,” Ed insisted, “even if the food is trash.” 

“Hey! It is not bad,” Al insisted, “my fork is just bent all weird. That’s why I’m not eating.” Al picked up the metal fork and it was kinda weird. He wondered why the hospital would even keep it at this point. 

“I got it,” Ed said without thinking and clapped. He grabbed the fork and nothing happened. Nothing but the clap echoing in his mind. Nothing happened to the fork. It stayed a weird, bent up, fucked up fork. 

Oh yeah. That.

“Brother-,” Al started to speak.  
“Ah, shit,” Ed laughed as he tossed it onto the bed. Al looked a bit concerned, but Ed had to look easygoing. 

“It’s fine,” Ed insisted. Al tentatively picked it up again.

“It won’t be good if I eat too much anyway,” Al tried sounding lighthearted.

“Yeah. What if your stomach explodes or something,” Ed responded.

“Ew!” Al laughed again, but easier this time. 

“I should head back now. Take it easy, Al,” Ed got up slowly, his knee creaking a bit. That’s something for Winry to touch up when they got back. 

“See ya!” Al responded with a smile. So optimistic as always. Ed put his red coat on again and headed out. The hospital was clamoring. The staff all looked so tired as they rushed past him. It was like that in the streets at this time as well. People always rushing past. Winry hated the city. She enjoyed the peacefulness of Resembool. Rush Valley was full of other gearheads. And not as busy as Central. She could never live here. He couldn’t imagine her living here, at least. He stopped on the sidewalk as he stared out to the road. A car down the road honked. No honking cars back at Resembool. Just sheep or whatever. She liked peace and calm as she worked on automail. She would never set up shop here. That  _ didn’t  _ make Ed upset. She could do whatever she wanted to do. It didn’t matter to him. He quickly started walking again but soon stopped at a crosswalk. He thought about Al again. God, he was so worried. He wanted to monitor Al’s every single movement, but the nurse said, “this isn’t some hostel you can sleep in for free!” before kicking him out. It was a pain in the ass finding a hotel that late, but too many people recognize him as the Fullmetal Alchemist. They’re always excited to see him, but is he really an alchemist anymore if he can’t do alchemy? He doesn’t tell them that. The rumors speak enough, anyway. He sighed as he began to walk across the street. He’ll never regret saving Al. He could live through that choice a million times over and he’d make the same choice again. It was worth it for Al to finally be himself again. To see Al feel, taste, and whatever again was worth it. Every time he saw Al be amazed at the simplicity of being human, he was reminded why it was so worth it. It was just...hard adjusting. That was all. 

“The wheel isn’t working,” Ed heard a woman’s voice from behind him. He turned around to see a woman holding a baby next to another woman examining the bottom of a baby stroller.

“I think it’s jammed or something...better get a new one soon,” the crouching woman said. She sighed as she got up.

“I could help,” Ed said without thinking. They both looked up at him.

“Could you?” the one holding the baby asked hopefully. Ed’s face turned red as he realized he couldn’t, but he crouched down anyway. He looked at it and had no idea what was wrong. He looked over and the two women looked so hopeful. He tried shaking it. Or turning it. He was sweating as he lifted the stroller to examine it.   
“Aw man, I don’t think I can help you. Sorry,” He apologized. Embarrassed. They were kind and understanding, though.

“It’s okay, it’s okay…” and stuff.

“Wait! I think I’ve seen Granny do this…” He trailed off and he took off his coat. He turned red again.

“Uh, do you think you could use this as a sling?” He asked. The woman holding the baby nodded, patiently handing the little girl over to the other woman.

“Uh, so I think this sleeve goes over your shoulder...and the other one over the other shoulder. Yeah, like that. Then you tie a knot...then, uh, the baby can go right here,” He instructed the two women and they placed the child in. 

“Thank you so much!” They smiled and thanked him as they went off in the night with folded up baby stroller in hand. He smiled. There! See! He wasn’t so useless without alchemy. He had more of those coats packed away. And the evening wasn’t so cold. When he got back to the hotel, some man recognized him and lauded him as some kind of war hero. He wasn’t one, though. Ed’s never been to war. He just punched some guy and now everyone knows him. Ed frowned.   
“You’re that Fullmetal Alchemist!” He had exclaimed. His entire identity was alchemy. He quickly returned to his room. Alone. The city from his window looked lonely, too. Everyone walking alone. Or those who were together just made him feel more lonely. Soon Al would be out of the hospital! And they’d be back in Resembool! After that, though? Ed tossed off his shoes before turning off the light and slumping in bed. He stared at the ceiling. Distant cars and chatters sometimes drifted through, but even the city calmed down at night. It slowed down. He’s always wanted a slow life. He’s always wanted to return to that time with mom. A simple life in the country. Waking up to the smell of baking. Enjoying the outside. He’d grown tired of the fighting and saving everyone, but that’s because it had become so normal. What was a life without some kind of conflict? Would it not be enough? He was already itching for something to do, someplace to go to, or someone to fight. Someone to save. He doesn’t think he can return to that simple life after all that’s happened. No matter how much he wants it.  
“Better wait and see, huh,” he whispered to himself.

He clapped and put his hands on the blanket.

Nothing happened.


	2. You Look Like Shit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Classes have ENDED and I have so much free time. I'm probably just going to sleep, but I AM planning on writing something (maybe some things) for Roy/Ed week 2020. If you want more information for yourself, you can find it on royedpalooza's Tumblr or Twitter. ^^

“Fuck, Mustang. You look like shit,” Ed had not meant to say. Maybe he had meant to say it. He definitely thought it. Mustang definitely did look like shit.

“It’s good to see you, too, Fullmetal. Alphonse,” Mustang greeted and nodded his head at both of them.

“You look fine, Colonel,” Al insisted. Well, Mustang looked like a goddamn cherub compared to the walking skeleton Al is. He was a lot better now, but his cheeks were still a little too hollow and his limbs still a little too skinny. 

“And I’m not Fullmetal anymore, Colonel Dipshit,” Ed retorted. 

“That’s gonna be Brigadier General soon!” Havoc said cheekily. Mustang shot him a glare but said nothing. It was reassuring in a dumb way to see his eyes working again, but they were bloodshot. There were dark spots under them that were glaring against his skin. Ed wasn’t looking that closely though it was just super obvious.

“You haven’t resigned yet,” Mustang simply stated. The rest of the Mustang squad was gathered in the office for a big goodbye. Even though they weren’t leaving for like a week, this was the best time for everybody. Everyone was so busy. That’s what reforming the government is like, though: Time consuming.

“And even though you guys are going home, you’re definitely gonna have to visit us here in Central!” Breda picked up some bottles of...something. Alcohol? No way.

“You’re always welcome here,” Hawkeye smiled. Ed was still scared of her. Anyone who isn’t is a fool. 

“Uh, what’s that?” Al asked nervously as he pointed to the drinks being passed around.

“Nothing for you. You just got discharged and we don’t want you back in for alcohol poisoning,” Ed told him. Al’s eyes went big.

“We're too young, Brother!” Al whispered. Loudly. Whisper-shouted.

“Hey, just ‘cause this is a party for you guys doesn’t mean the adults aren’t allowed to drink,” Falman said pointedly. Ed looked over to Mustang and he seemed too tired to care. Shit, did that man get more than three hours of sleep last night? Or this entire week?

“If Al drinks one sip it’s already 1% of his bloodstream,” Ed yelled. Al looked sheepish as he leaned on his cane. Everyone celebrated with the well-needed break. They all looked like shit, really. Ed didn’t drink. Not because he couldn’t handle it! It was just ‘cause he was in solidarity with his brother. He couldn’t leave Al the only sober one at this whole thing. Good brotherly solidarity.   
“They’re just using this as an excuse to get wasted,” Mustang said to him as they watched everyone else. Al was doing some kind of card game with some of the guys. 

“Not you? Shocker,” Ed asked skeptically.

“I’ve got too much to do tomorrow without a hangover,” he replied. Ed scoffed.

“Who are you and what have you done with the Colonel? The real Mustang would do anything to not work or some shit,” Ed said. He raised his eyebrows in feigned suspicion.

“Too busy for a day off. Democracy never waits. And I want my money back some time in my life,” he added playfully. 

“Shit, you remember ‘’bout that? Pry it from my cold, dead hands, Mustang,” Ed smiled nonetheless. He looked over to Al absolutely crushing the guys at...whatever they’re playing. Guess it’s easy to play against a bunch of shit faced people. Or Al had a secret skill at card games. Spectacular.

“I think they needed this,” Mustang sighed.

“So much is changing so fast and they’re right on top of it constantly. They just plow through and hope things will change. They will miss you guys, though. Genuinely,” Mustang continued. Ed looked at his eyes again. The color was so dark it was almost indistinguishable from the pupil. 

“Yeah. It’s not gonna be fun leaving, but y’know. Gotta go some time,” he tried sounding nonchalant. Cool. 

“Must you terrorize poor Resembool?” Mustang asked.

“Hey! We’re basically town heroes!” Ed retorted.

“Can’t be town heroes if you burn the town down,” Mustang said back.

“Well, you better not burn down Central! Literally.” Ed looked back over to Al. The guys were no longer playing card games. They were sulking after being sorely beaten by someone younger than them.

“Are you excited to return home after all this time?” Mustang asked after a moment. Home. Winry’s home was somewhere they had stayed temporarily. Go back, get fixed up, and then leave. He always imagined living there someday. 

“I’m gonna miss Central a little, I mean. Gotten used to living here n’ all.” He then saw Fuery knock over a bottle and it spilled onto the carpet. Breda yelled how he’s such a lightweight and Hawkeye yelled at them to clean it up. 

No one defied Riza Hawkeye. The poor guys were scrubbing like they were Aschenputtel or some shit. 

“Ugh, maybe I do need a day off,” Mustang muttered as he stared at his subordinates making a mess. Huh. So he admits it.

“Hey, what’re you doing tomorrow?” Ed asked.

“Work,” Mustang responded.

“Uh, when’s the next time you have free time?” He asked.

“Never.” 

“No rest for the weary…” Ed trailed off while smirking. He had wanted to tour around Central one last time for sentimentality’s sake...and Al was much too weak to join him, but he didn’t want to make him feel guilty...and Mustang needed a day off. Oh yeah. He had a plan.

Unfortunately, that meant waking up ungodly early. Well, if there was a god, he would say that people weren’t allowed to be awake that early. 

“Fullmetal?” Mustang asked. Ed guessed he’d probably been in the office for an hour already. No one else was in the office yet.

“Nope! Not anymore,” Ed said as he dropped his watch and some papers on his desk. Mustang’s tired eyes looked at them for a long moment. He couldn’t register what it was at first.

“You want to do this right now?” Mustang droned. 

“Absolutely. When else would I do it? Should I mail it in from Resembool?” He asked.

“You could steal the watch and keep all the privileges,” Mustang suggested.

“I would never break the law,” Mustang gave him a stink eye, “and anyways the whole country of Amestris will know I’m retired by next week. I’m kinda famous by now,” Ed flaunted. 

“I don’t have time for this,” Mustang insisted.

“Ah, nope! You’re gonna take a sick day today, Colonel,” Ed said and snatched his pen. He looked kinda pissed, but Ed ignored it as he sat on Mustang’s desk. He wrote a note on a stray piece of paper. Mustang might’ve said something like “that’s an important document” but Ed wasn’t listening.

“Is there someone you gotta call in about being sick or somethin’?” Ed asked. Mustang continued protesting, but Ed rolled right over his talking.

“Guess not. C’mon,” Ed pointed to the door with his head and jumped off the desk. 

“I will not engage in any of your shenanigans today-” Mustang got up to speak.

“Hey, if it took the Homunculuses hundreds of years to get their shit done, then you can take one day off,” Ed insisted.

“Homunculi. And that is a terrible comparison,” Mustang smiled despite himself. 

“Ah see, you’re smiling. You can’t help it. C’mon, I’m kidnapping you,” Ed stood by the door with his hand on the doorframe. 

“That has to be treason,” Mustang says, but takes a step closer.

“You have to be important for it to be treason,” Ed retorted. Mustang rolled his eyes. 

“Where are you planning on, uh, kidnapping me...to?” Mustang asked politely.

“Dunno. Around Central?” Ed leaned on the doorframe. Mustang faked a pensive look, but Ed already knew he won him over. Somehow.

“Perhaps for a short while, but I must get back here before noon,” Mustang told him.

“Sure,” Ed lied through his teeth. As Mustang followed after him, he asked what Ed wrote on the paper. 

“The ‘sick note.’ What did you write exactly?” 

“Oh, y’know,” Ed shrugged,” Something generic. Like, ‘not feeling well. Taking the day off,’” Ed responded. Mustang looked suspicious.

Back at the office, Hawkeye picked up the piece of paper.

“‘Colonel is wasted. Day off for hangover.’” Riza read aloud. She squinted at it incredulously.

“Why is this in Edward’s handwriting?” She asked to the empty office. She glared out to the window as the paper crinkled under her hands.

Somewhere else in Central, Mustang uncontrollably shivered.

“It’s like twenty-two degrees out. How are you cold?” Ed mocked. Mustang looked around.

“Not that. Just a, um, bad feeling,” Mustang responded. He cleared his throat as he looked around.

“Won’t someone recognize us?” He suddenly asked. Ed looked around as well. There were some people staring. Ah, shit. Ed quickly took off his red coat and tied it around his waist. Mustang stared at him as he untied the braid and struggled to get it into a ponytail. Mustang continued staring.

“You need a disguise, too, dumbass,” Ed pointed out. Mustang looked over himself. He was wearing the blue uniform, but his face was too recognizable. Ed tightened his ponytail and then pointed to the right.

“We gotta get you glasses or a hat or something to cover that face of yours,” Ed insisted.

“A crime,” Mustang deadpanned. 

“We should buy you a bucket hat,” Ed joked as they walked into a clothing and accessories store. The bell jingled as it closed, but the owner looked busy talking to someone else.

“Just a moment!” She called. Ed started to browse for the ugliest thing he could find, but the store was more upscale than he thought. There were just really nice top hats or bowler hats that were too fancy for Ed. 

“You should wear this,” Ed pointed to a ridiculously tall top hat. Mustang looked unamused.

“I don’t need to compensate with a hat,” He responded. 

“Hah,” was all Ed was able to respond with. How do you respond to that from your superior officer? Former superior officer.

“M-Mustang? Colonel Mustang!” The shop owner exclaimed. Her face went red as she rushed over.

“Oh my goodness, I am so sorry for the wait,” she apologized.

“It’s nothing for the chance to speak with someone like you,” Mustang smiled at the woman. She laughed as she raised a hand to her face. Ed rolled his eyes and kicked his foot to the ground. The nonmetal one, lest he gives the woman a heart attack with the thunk. He let them walk off as he wandered around, not really looking at anything. The suits were all grey and black. Boring ass colors. The shop smelled too clean. Everything was in the right place. Ed had a random urge to mess it all up. He stopped walking. Guess he’s just used to causing a lot of destruction in the name of justice or whatever. His leash as a dog of the military was pretty loose. Mustang really let him do anything. Ed looked back, but Mustang was still flirting with the lady. Ed should grab the most expensive item and force Mustang to buy it. Ed should shout something embarrassing to speed him up. He groaned and started to pace again. 

“Have a nice day!” the woman finally ( _ finally _ ) said as Mustang walked towards him with a Panama hat and glasses.

“She gave me a discount. Lovely woman,” Mustang tipped the hat to Ed. 

“Took you long enough,” Ed said to him.

“You should plan your kidnappings more thoroughly,” Mustang recommended. They walked out into the street. 

“Maybe you shouldn’t be such a shameless flirt. I saw that woman had a ring,” Ed bit at Mustang. 

“Ah, I must have missed it,” Mustang insisted.

“How convenient,” Ed muttered back as he looked up. He recognized this street. There was a bookstore up ahead. 

“Yes, convenient. Convenient enough to get me the discount on the hat and glasses,” Mustang said. Ed looked at his smug face.

“You dick,” Ed rolled his eyes. He pointed forwards.

“We’re gonna be going down there,” Ed said. 

“Care to say where?” Mustang asked.

“It’s a surprise, dipshit.” It was surprising how little they could change and suddenly no one recognized them. Like they were just nobodies walking through the crowd. How simple. No travels to think of. No country to worry about. Just weaving through the crowd and the sun to worry about.

“I’ll never understand how people can wake up so fucking early,” Ed yawned out. 

“It’s a secret that only adults learn,” Mustang said.

“Hey, I’m not a fucking kid! I’m close to Fuery’s age!” Ed yelled, no modesty for onlookers.

“The Elrics will always be children in our eyes. Hawkeye’s practically adopted you,” Mustang joked. Ed was still hot-headed, though.

“I’m the same age you were when you became a state alchemist!” Ed yelled. He stopped as people walked past him. 

“Which is too young. Keep walking. You’re blocking the way,” Mustang responded. Ed didn’t move for a moment. 

“If you don’t go, I guess I’ll have to return to the office,” Mustang trailed off as he looked away. Ed jolted and turned swiftly away.

“Fine, but you’re gonna have to keep up with me, ya old geezer,” Ed yelled. He kept walking without looking back until he ended up in front of a little bookstore. He never got to visit much. He finally checked to see if Mustang kept up. He was irked to see the man had kept right on his heels. 

“A bookstore?” Mustang looked at the sign.

“Yes, books. I bet you remember when the printing press was invented,” Ed shot at him. Mustang sighed.

“That is a low blow,” Mustang said as he walked inside. Ed wanted to yell again, but the quiet serenity of the bookstore made him purse his lips.

“I am not a short pipsqueak who’s smaller than a bean you piece of shit!” Ed whispered to Mustang. The man just shushed him which made his blood boil more.

“Why, Fullmetal, look at those interesting books up there? You should peruse the titles. Perhaps you could grab one for me,” Mustang suggested as he pointed to some texts on the top shelf.

“I’ll shove them up your ass,” Ed retorted.

“Ouch.” Mustang started to genuinely look at the books and began a slow pace. 

“How’d you find this place?” He asked. Ed shrugged his shoulders.

“Al n’ I explored the city the first time we came here. Nothing beats a quiet bookstore,” Ed answered honestly. They spent some time walking around slowly. Looking at books. It was peaceful. Mustang broke the silence after a while.

“How is Alphonse?” He asked. Ed had pulled out something on botany but flipped through it uninterested. 

“Gettin’ better. He’s excited about everything. He got to pet someone’s guide dog and he started crying,” Ed laughed, but there was a softer tone. He can’t imagine what it’s like for Al, but he’s supportive. When Al wanted to feel the rain on his skin, Ed was willing to sneak him out in a wheelchair. The nurse obviously wanted to get mad, but the hollows of Al’s face would sway anyone. Ed got a vicious yelling, but it was worth it. 

“It’s colder than I remember,” Al had said. Ed wrapped a blanket around his shoulders.

“Too cold?” He asked. Al shook his head.

“I like the sound. It’s softer,” Al said. Softer than the clink of water on metal. 

Mustang grabbed Ed’s book on botany. Ed shot an annoyed look at Mustang, but Mustang’s eyes were focused on the illustrations. Ed wanted to make a comment about his eye bags, but he couldn’t open his mouth to do that. For some reason. 

“It is a relief to know he’s doing alright. He looked like a skeleton version of you when I first saw him,” Mustang looked at Ed suddenly. His glasses were falling from the bridge of his nose.

“Freaky,” Ed responded. He grabbed the botany book from Mustang’s hands and shoved it back on the shelf. Mustang didn’t react as they made their way to another section of the store. 

“Al’s real excited to get back to Resembool. He wants Winry’s apple pie more than anything, poor kid,” Ed trailed off. He kept a slow pace and Mustang kept following him.

“He already wants to set off to Xing the moment he won’t snap like a twig,” Ed laughed and Mustang stopped behind him. He was looking at historical books now.

“Ugh, those are boring as shit,” Ed looked over. They were just about a bunch of dead people. He looked around, but they were in history section hell. 

“What are your plans?” Mustang asked. Ed leaned on the edge of the bookshelf. 

“Eh, y’know. Traveling. Studying. I’m still working out the details, but I got time,” Ed looked to a clock on the wall and squinted. Still too early to eat.

“It’s ok to be uncertain. And it’s ok to spend some downtime at home. After what you’ve been through, I think you deserve it,” Mustang said. Ed looked over to the book he was holding.

“Ugh, these biographies are only good to fall asleep reading to,” Ed scanned over the pages.

“No finesse, Fullmetal. These accounts are very informative about the times people lived in. We can learn from them and improve our own times,” Mustang informed. 

“These are just letter transcripts...Boring letter transcripts,” Ed leaned back again.

“Boring? It’s the correspondence between a priest and his illegitimate son,” Mustang said.

“So? We got phones now.”

“Not everywhere,” Mustang refuted.

“Many of the places in your travels probably didn’t have phones. Not small Amestrian villages. And other countries are also technologically different from us. It is also not uncommon for people to communicate through letters, still, today,” Mustang lectured.

“Snore. I’m bored now,” Ed responded and snatched the book away. Mustang was still smiling, though. Smug jerk.

“Is it too early to eat?” Ed suddenly asked.

“Done here so soon?” Mustang asked.

“If you’re just gonna lecture about boring shit, then yeah,” Ed led them towards the exit.

“Well, Fullmetal, it is a bit early to eat, but I guess-”

“Not Fullmetal anymore,” Ed cut him off. 

“I’m not an alchemist anymore,” he continued. They wandered for a bit.

“Ah, nice, everywhere’s gonna be pretty empty,” Ed said in a normal tone. It sounded casual in his ears, at least. 

“You’re still smarter than most alchemists I know,” Mustang said.

“Flattery won’t make me pay for your meal.” 

“That’s,” Mustang sighed, “not what I’m getting at.” 

“Ah! There’s this Aerugonian place I wanted to go to. I think it’s close by,” Ed changed the topic. Mustang followed behind. As the morning passed, the heat of the day got more unbearable. Ed’s was boiling in his black clothing. How the fuck was Mustang fine in his full military gear? 

“Can’t take the heat?” Mustang asked.

“You could light me on fire and I could care less,” Ed yelled back. 

“Are you sure you know where you’re going?” He suddenly asked. 

“Of course!” Ed yelled with confidence. He didn’t recognize the stores around here, but he’d find his way. The sounds of the city drowned out anything in his head. It was easier to let the indecipherable voices from other conversations filter in. Easier than filtering out his own emotions or feelings.

“It’s a scenic route,” Ed yelled. He saw pots of flowers in window sills. Bakeries with bread begging in the windows. Children and families. Ed stopped as he looked around. He was sweating. From the sun. Not because he had no idea where he was.

“I might wanna...double-check the location with someone. I dunno, just to make sure,” Ed laughed nervously. 

“Because we’re not lost,” Mustang said.

“Absolutely not! I just...ah, miss!” Ed called out to an old lady. Old ladies never kidnapped people. Ed started to ask for directions (as a double check) but the granny’s eyes went wide.

“Why you’re Colonel Mustang, aren’t you?” she pointed a shaky finger at Mustang. He coughed.

“No, miss, but I get that all the time. I am….” he trailed off.

“This is Ray Cheval. Mustang’s cousin. An understandable misunderstanding,” Ed cut in. She asked all kinds of questions, like grandmothers do, before they got their directions.

“And you boys make sure you eat more chicken! Too much red meat is bad for your heart,” She called out as they walked away.

“She’s way nicer than Winry’s granny,” Ed muttered. 

“Ray Cheval?” Mustang asked. He looked greatly unamused which was awesome for Ed.

“Pretty clever, right?” Ed raised his eyebrows.

“Cheval?” He continued.

“If there’s something I’m missing here, I’m not sure I wanna know what,” Mustang responded. Ed started laughing.

“Future Fuhrer doesn’t even know his languages,” he laughed. 

“Watch it! I know two languages and I’m conversational in Cretan,” Mustang defended.

“Only two? Guess who knows three,” Ed gloated.

“You’ve had more time to pick them up on your travels. I have been here in Central, so I believe I have had a life disadvantage.”

Ed laughed again. “That sounds like defeat.”

“No, it is perfect reasoning,” Mustang responded.

“Sorry, I cannot talk to people who only speak two languages. Amestrian is one of them, too. Oh man, I cannot talk to people who only know one other language.” 

“You’re being childish,” Mustang reprimanded. There. That really irked Ed. He wouldn’t have thought twice about an argument, but luckily for Mustang, they had arrived at the restaurant. They had surprisingly good pizza. Ed decided he was gonna sneak some back for Al. 

“Man, I’m so tired now,” Ed yawned as they exited the place.

“It’s time for me to get back now,” Mustang said as he checked his watch. The fancy state alchemist watch.

“Woah, woah, woah. Colonel. This is a  _ day  _ off, not a couple of hours off. We still got stuff to do!” Ed pulled Mustang along. 

“What?” Mustang asked. But he pulled them to a big market. There they looked at everything being sold. Sweet-smelling strawberries and other farmers selling their stuff. Jewelry and trinkets. Ed found a broach with a horse engraved in it and showed it to Mustang. He did not find it as funny. Mustang, in turn, showed Ed an illustration of a dwarf.

“It looks just like you,” Mustang said in wonder. Ed kicked him in the shin. With the metal foot. The sun passed overhead and they ended up on a park bench. There was a silence as they listened to the wind in the trees. The orangeness of the sky.

“Sorry that you gotta go back to serious shit tomorrow,” Ed finally said. 

“It’s fine. Just a lot,” Mustang automatically responded. 

“You got a whole team behind your back. And we’re not gonna change this country overnight no matter how much sleep we lose,” Ed said. Mustang stared at the sky.

“I know,” Mustang replied. Ed realized the heat of the day was fading. He put his signature red jacket back on.

“I have to save face. No one wants to follow a half-hearted leader. If I act like our goals are so far off, how will everyone else feel?” Mustang said quieter but never moving his eyes from the distance. Ed made a face.

“Well, everyone knows the same stuff you do. They’re the most loyal people you got. They’ll stick with it no matter how long it takes,” Ed responded in a quieter tone. He sat up from his slouched position.

“I suppose,” Mustang said. 

“You’re the one who said it was ok to be uncertain. Take some downtime after all we’ve been through,” Ed reminded him.

“It’s different for you because you’re still young,” Mustang replied.

“Bullshit. We all went through the same thing. No one’s requiring you to know all the answers,” Ed said back. 

“You’re gonna burn out if you wear yourself out so soon. You know what you want to do and what you need to do. Give it time,” Ed advised. 

“I suppose I’m envious of you,” Mustang finally looked at him. God, the lines under his eyes were deep.

“You’ve got your whole future you can shape,” Mustang said. 

“Yeah,” Ed responded and looked at the ground. He did not take note of how his feet barely reached the ground. Point is, they reached the ground. Period. When he looked back up, Mustang was still staring at him.

“What, you bastard?” Ed asked loudly. 

“It isn’t a race. Knowing what to do with your life. You can figure it out from this point onwards,” Mustang advised.

“I know that,” Ed said defensively. He kicked the ground with his foot. The nonmetal foot. 

“I guess it’s just...Al wants to go to Xing. I thought we’d be sticking together, but he seems so ready to be independent. Not that I’m not okay with that. I am ok with being alone. I guess I’m just not….used to it?” Ed choked out his worries. It was like trying to push meat out of a meat grinder which Ed has seen and it’s gross. The words got stuck and then he has to go through pains to get them out. His face felt hot. Maybe it wouldn’t be visible. Ed looked away.

“You should talk to Alphonse. Or Winry,” Mustang finally said. Ed looked at him through his hair.

“What?” He asked dumbly. 

“It’s getting late,” Mustang changed his tone. 

“We should head back now. I hope you have a safe journey back to Resembool,” Mustang got up and straightened his coat. Ed realized his hands were clutching tightly to his red jacket. The fabric felt uncomfortable and bunched between his fingers. 

“Uh...sure,” Ed agreed. This time he followed behind Mustang. He stared at the expanse of blue on his back. The blue uniform Ed managed to get away with never wearing. Guess he’ll never get the chance to. He looked at the back of Mustang’s head. The fuck was with the tone change? God forbid Ed got fucking honest with him. No, Ed was just a kid so what did he know? His problems were not for the world of adults, no. Talk to someone your own age. Fuck, Ed just wanted to get back to the hotel. 

“Have a great fucking life,” Ed parted ways without looking back. 


	3. Searching

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's got a lot of letters in it so it's kind of word-heavy. No beta though we die like men. Also, I wrote this back during the summer like in July, but looking over this now I think I was definitely influenced by the fic Transposition Ciphers by applecrumbledore which y'all should definitely check out!!

Ed heard birds in the morning. Weird chirping or cooing. No cars or chatter. He’d never been a morning person, but he hadn’t been able to sleep much last night. He watched the light filter in through his window. The view from the Rockbell house was nice. Bright orange trees and leaves scattered all over the ground. His eyes drifted towards his empty suitcase on the ground. He hadn’t even started packing. And Al was leaving today. Ed turned over in the bed and curled up. He looked over to an oil stain from his leg. Shit. He’d have to do laundry tonight.

Ed clumsily made his way down the stairs. He heard clatters from Winry fixing up breakfast.

“You’re up early,” She noted. He looked over to the windowsill but it was empty. When they first returned, Al cried after eating the pie. Winry was flustered because she didn’t think it was that good. They had to stop him after he ate three pieces and wouldn’t stop. 

“Birds woke me up. Couldn’t go back to sleep with all their noise,” Ed said dismissively. He sat at the table and propped his head up with his hands.

“It could be because Al is leaving today,” Winry teased. Something she had on a pan sizzled. 

“Eh,” he responded. He laid on the table and rested his head on his arm. Al’s been pretty healthy for a while now. Ed could tell he was restless to leave. Ed had teased him about that girl.

“What’s her name? The Xingese girl who clearly had a crush on you,” Ed had asked Al. Al had started blushing and waving his hands around.

“Her name is Mei, but I’m sure that’s not it!” He had cried.

“Well, make sure you say hi to her when you get there. And give me a call,” Ed told him. Al laughed a little bit.

“About that, I don’t think I’ll be able to. I’m planning on going to some pretty remote places. I want to study under the old masters of alkahestry,” Al said. Some asshole’s voice rang in Ed’s head. Something about places not having phones and blah blah blah….He wanted to bash his face in.

“Huh,” Ed muttered. “Well, I guess just tell me whenever we see each other again.”

“Actually,” Al smiled, “although I’ll be far away, I know that Xing has an excellent postal system.” Ed felt his stomach drop. 

“Perhaps you could expect a letter from me.” Al seemed excited. How ridiculous. Ed stared at the ground. Very hard. He tried to bore a hole that he could jump into. He wasn’t ready to crush Al. He also wasn’t ready to think about Mustang’s fucking lecture on letters. A dichotomy.

“Yeah…” Ed finally said. Al looked happy enough.

“I wouldn’t mind it if you stayed here longer.” Winry broke Ed out of the memory.

“No need to get away so soon just because Al is,” she said. He sat up.

“Nah. I’ve been wanting to go south for a while. I’ve just been focused on Al so much that I haven’t had much time to think about it,” Ed responded. He looked out the window behind Winry. It was the same as the window from his room: nothing but dying trees and fields that go on forever.

“What are your plans for today? After Al leaves, I mean,” Winry asked him. She finally set down her wooden spoon and sat across from him at the table.

“Dunno. Nothing much,” Ed responded. He felt restless. He read all the books in the house. He knew all the people who lived here. Hell, he knew the names of all their livestock, too. This old man had a chicken named Hank who pecked the shit out of everyone it saw. 

“Well,” Winry clasped her hands together, “do you have time to run to town? I’m busy with this automail hand I’m working on and we need some food.” He didn’t want to, but her eyes were practically begging him. She didn’t look tired at all even though Ed knows she runs off barely any sleep constantly. He didn’t get it.

“Sure,” he agreed. She thanked him as they heard footsteps down the stairs. The steady and strong rhythm was surely Al.

“Mornin’,” Ed turned around to see his brother. He had a single suitcase in his hand and looked wide awake. 

“Good morning. And good morning Winry,” he sat next to Ed and put his suitcase down.

“Ready for your train?” she asked. 

“Yeah! I’m really excited,” he smiled. She got up to fetch the food she had made.

“I’m glad. I don’t think you two could ever stay in one place for too long,” she mentioned as the brothers got up to help set up breakfast.

“Yeah,” Ed said as he set down a plate of toast. 

Later, Ed hugged his brother before he got on the train.

“Be there for Winry! I’ll miss you,” Al told him. He got on the train and then the train became smaller and smaller. And then he was gone. Just like that. It seemed so easy.

Ed went to town. He picked up all the items on Winry’s grocery list. It was a normal day, practically. That night, Ed stared at his empty suitcase again. He thought he could hear Winry’s distant hammering, but his mind was probably just making up the noises. He curled up in the bed again remembering the oil stain he saw that morning. He’ll do laundry tomorrow.

  
  


_ Dear Brother, _

_ I had already sent a letter before I realized you had probably already departed to another city! I quickly started this one and I hope it actually makes it to you on time. It sounds so beautiful there and I hope I can visit sometime. It also sounds much more temperate than the mountains of Xing during winter. The people also sound so nice! I can vividly imagine those children holding onto your limbs. I started laughing when I read that part. The children here are usually really well behaved. I can’t imagine any of them doing that. I am also glad, though, that you taught that woman a lesson! Never mess with the Elrics! As for me, it has been a little hard grasping alkahestry. It is so different from alchemy, but the masters are very wise. I am upset they won’t allow women to be masters, but I’m trying to vouch for Mei. I’m pretty sure she could beat their old butts any day. (I hope they don’t read that part). As for your studies, I hope that alchemist woman is a legitimate lead. If it’s true that she healed a blind person, perhaps that could lead to a breakthrough for others! I wish you luck! _ _   
_ _ Al _

_ Dear Edward, _

_ Paninya wanted you to know that she’s so happy you know Cretan just to shock that scammer. I can’t believe someone would take advantage of a foreigner like that, but at the same time, I can. Such is the world of business. It’s been nice staying with Paninya, but I can’t wait to get back home to Granny. I’m also excited for you guys to return. Do you think you’d make it home on time for New Year? I don’t think so, but it’s a nice thought. Have you met any other automail engineers? Which reminds me, if your leg is messed up when you come home, I’ll make sure you never see anything but six of dirt ever again. Make sure to write back soon! _

_ Sincerely, _

_ Winry _

_ PS: The guys at Central wanted to know what you’ve been up to, so I filled them in. You should really keep better contact with them! They looked really concerned. _

Ed set the letters down on the wooden table of his hotel room. The yellow light from his lamp saturated the whiteness of the paper. He sighed as he leaned back. It was already such a pain to keep up with Al and Win. Neither Resembool nor the remote ass mountains of Xing had the greatest postal systems. Al and his bullshit. It took for fucking ever for anything to get across the desert. It was always complicated updating them on his location. He was always moving to different places and he had to make sure to tell them the right place in time. It was a lot of math. Too much math. Sometimes he was able to get a telephone call in, but those were always super complicated. Everything was super complicated. He closed his stinging eyes.

A part of him wished he could travel alone in peace. Another part of him hated sleeping in these hotel rooms alone. He hated to admit it, but he liked staying at some stranger’s house better. At first, he was sure he was gonna get kidnapped by someone. At some point, though, he’d gotten used to speaking to the locals and they’d offer him a place for a night or longer. The food was always better and if it was for free? Hell yeah. He’d also enjoy the presence of other people. It made him feel less alone. He was fine with traveling alone, but, y’know, sometimes it’s nice to have human interaction. The letters didn’t come so often. Only one or two in a month. Ed sighed as he took out a pen. At first, he cared a lot about what he wrote in his letters. He wouldn’t plan them out or anything beforehand, but he wanted them to be decent. Now, he just wrote about whatever came to mind. Sometimes he left out a big thing like his taxi breaking down and not making it to a hotel on time, so he camped outside. Not like he hadn’t before, but it was a pain in the ass. Sometimes he included small things like a conversation he had the morning before. 

Ed realized he stopped moving his pen and it made a huge inkblot. He cursed and tried salvaging it, but decided to throw it in the bin. No use writing back so late at night. 

The next morning, he received another letter. Ed stared at it. He thought it was Al’s other letter that he sent to the wrong location, but when Ed opened it he recognized the handwriting.

“What the fuck?” he said aloud. It was addressed from Central. Not only that, it was addressed to Fullmetal. Only one bastard still called him that after all this time. He scoffed and tossed it. Like hell he was gonna read it.

That night, Ed slumped into bed, shoes and all. Ed visited a woman - an alchemist. She was nice enough if not a little weird. She showed Ed how certain plants have stellar healing components if extracted correctly. She’d spent her whole life devoted to healing and shit. Unfortunately, the thing about her healing a blind person was a rumor. Well, not really. She explained that she helped someone who wasn’t born blind - it was cataracts. She used an alchemical procedure to extract the cataract which was safer than using a needle. With the needle method, there was a higher risk of infection afterward. He still learned a lot and had a bunch of notes sitting on his desk. He turned over to lay on his back. It was too early to go to bed. Ed stared at the ugly ceiling. The library he visited in the last city was much prettier. It was all colorful and geometric and shit. The ceiling he was staring at was white but aged. The corners where the walls met were discolored. There were some areas with cracks. Some areas with flaked off paint. He groaned as he sat up and took off his boots. He eyed the mostly empty bin. The bin with the unopened letter. Ed groaned as he got up and walked over.

“Nothin’ better to do…” Ed muttered to himself. He ripped it open ungracefully. It irked him to see the handwriting so precise and neat. 

_ Fullmetal, _

Ed groaned and set the letter down on the desk. After a moment, he pulled out the chair and sat down. He picked it up again.

_ Fullmetal, _

_ Or would you rather I don’t call you that? Well, I don’t want to restart and waste this perfectly good piece of paper. Hawkeye told me about a particular conversation of hers with Miss Rockbell about a certain letter correspondence. I nearly gasped. Edward Elric writing letters? The object of his disgust the last time I had conversed with him? Surely it couldn’t be true. But a quick conversation with Miss Rockbell confirmed it. So, Edward Elric, is it true? I’m interested to see your penmanship. On a more serious note, I do hope you find your journey fruitful. I know Creta has a rich history of scientific discovery and beautiful architecture. I especially envy the mild Cretan winters compared to the snow here in Amestris. Everyone here in Central feels the missing presence of you two young troublemakers. Please write back and let us all know you’re alive at least. Or confirm that you haven’t caused grievous amounts of public damage. _

_ Mustang _

It wasn’t like he was going to respond to it. He shouldn’t have read it at all because now he was annoyed. He let out a big sigh and turned off his lamp. He wasn’t in a big city, so the night was fairly quiet. A car passed rarely and no chatter drifted in. He thought about a family he stayed with in Aerugo a long time back. A woman and her daughter. It was late and Ed had made himself a cup of tea. The mother was awake and sat down across from him with her own cup of tea. 

“What’s keeping you up, Edward?” she asked. He kept his hands around his cup.

“A lot of thoughts. I miss my brother,” Ed responded. Honesty was a weird paradox. It was hard to be honest with strangers because they didn’t know him well enough to understand him. At the same time, though, they won’t see him again, so what the heck. They can’t judge him as much as someone close to him.

“Your brother in Xing. Alphonse,” she responded.

“It’s hard to be far from our loved ones. My husband works with real estate. He’s often traveling far away to help old money families handle their estates or lands,” she continued.

“How do you deal with it?” he asked. She took a sip of her tea.

“At first, I was concerned about our daughter. How will she grow up with an absent father? But it isn’t so bad. He isn’t gone all the time. And when he is home, he spends a lot of time with her. Then, I was just focused on how much I missed him. But I think I’ve learned since then. Now, I think about how much he misses us. I always make sure he has a warm welcome home,” she explained. Ed looked at the wall. There were photographs everywhere. 

“What if...you don’t have a home. Like, there’s a place we go back to, but it isn’t our ‘home.’ It’s someone else’s house. We’re good friends and all, but it’s never felt like somewhere I could live forever. Like, I’m not even gonna return there every single time I come back,” Ed confessed. She mulled over it for a moment.

“I’m sure your friend would welcome you back to their home for as long as you wish. But I understand it’s hard to feel at home in certain places. Perhaps your brother and you should buy a house that belongs to both of you. An anchoring point for both of you to return to,” she offered. Ed shook his head.

“It wouldn’t be worth the money if we’re gone most of the time. And Al is fine going wherever the wind takes him. I should be, too,” Ed said. 

“I see…” She trailed off. There was a comfortable silence. Ed focused on the ticking of the clock. It was loud in the silence. He hadn’t even noticed there was a clock in this room until just then.

“Is there anyone else?” she suddenly asked. Ed raised an eyebrow.

“Well, maybe home isn’t your anchor. It sounds like you miss a person, but this person doesn’t want to be anchored which should be respected. Is there anyone else in your life you would call an anchor? It could be that friend you stayed with. Or someone else,” she elaborated.

“No. No one else,” Ed said. He stared at the bottom of his empty teacup.

Now, he was still staring at the ceiling. God, Mustang was such a dick. Ed had mixed feelings about the last time he saw him. Mustang was always someone he had some animosity with. The more they had worked together, though, the more they got along. Fighting against a corrupt government together kinda does that, huh. But there was this inherent dickness about Mustang that always pissed Ed off. Ed groaned as he sat up.

“I need to prove him wrong. And other people wanna know how I’m doing...” Ed said to himself. He turned on the lamp and furiously wrote back. 

“Dear Colonel Bastard….For your information, I have kept a correspondence with my brother and Winry since I left Amestris. It might surprise you, but I have got things together better than you think,” Ed spoke as he wrote violently.

“I’ve been all over Aerugo and now Creta. I’m having a great time! So fuck you! Don’t write back!”

He stared at the letter but was unhappy with it. If he was spending money to send it, he should at least write something decent. And he was responding just this once. And if Mustang sent anything back, he’d just throw it away. So, Ed took more time with his next letter. He didn’t realize how much he had written until he squeezed his name at the bottom of the paper. He looked at the clock and it had gotten really fucking late. Shit. He set the letter down to dry and turned off his lamp. When he closed his eyes in bed, his eyes stung.

It was a few weeks later when Ed visited an art museum in Creta. It was quiet and his footsteps echoed down the hall. It wasn’t as good as the one in Aerugo. Creta was different in many senses. Aerugo’s government was pretty solid and organized. It stood as the central power in all of Aerugo. Creta was different. Its government was less central. It was a federation of independent places that all just agreed to work together despite not liking each other. In front of Ed, a lot of the art was just nature or portraits. He remembered a lot of the art in Aerugo was more metaphorical or fantastical. He sighed as he sat down on a bench. He stared at a large portrait in front of him. It caught Ed’s attention since it was of a Xingese woman. She was smiling but wearing Cretan clothing. It was titled “ _ The Foreigner _ .” Most of the other portraits were pretty boring ‘cause the people were not smiling. This girl, though, had the biggest smile. Her eyes crinkled and the artist caught it perfectly. Ed wondered what led her so far away from her own country. It was like the title said: she was a foreigner with a bunch of Cretans. How could she be so happy?

Ed was back at his hotel. He was still restless, but he didn’t feel like going anywhere else that day. He didn’t feel like talking to anybody else. Surprisingly, he had a letter waiting for him. He wondered if Winry was able to respond to him quickly, but it wasn’t Winry. As the door closed with a click behind him, he groaned. Mustang? How did it get here so fast? He ripped it open and read through it.

_ Dear Edward, _

_ I do hope you realize that it takes quite a bit of time to rise a rank in the military. It takes time and patience which I know you despise. I am glad to hear Alphonse and Winry are doing okay. For Miss Rockbell’s sake and probably yours, I hope you take care of your automail. If you ever feel like you’re stressing yourself out, it is okay to stay in a city that you like. You could take some time and really get to know it. Traveling doesn’t have to mean moving from place to place at breakneck speed. It sounds like you’re enjoying Creta. I’m not surprised that you’re still causing trouble, as well. I can’t say I’m too upset if that trouble involves exposing corrupt politicians (as long as that politician isn’t me).  _

_ I’m sure whatever I’m doing in Central would bore you. Recently we’ve been trying to pass a bill that allows people to vote for their local governors. We’re hoping that one day we can expand that into representatives from all parts of Amestris gathering in Central to vouch for their district. It is slow, but Fuhrer Grumman is very much on our side. It’s also hard to discern who is secretly against these changes, but that’s just usual politics.  _

_ So you might want to hold onto those 520 cens for a little bit longer. Don’t get pickpocketed. _

_ Mustang _

Ed set it down next to Mustang’s other letter and decided to forget about it. Instead, he focused on the notes he’d been gathering. He’d been interested in medicinal and healing alchemy. Al had traded notes with him on healing alkahestry. Whereas alkahestry focused more on elixirs or potions for healing, alchemy was still centered around diagrams or transmutations. Ed felt that this was less effective, though, because it required a great deal of knowledge from the alchemist in order to be effective. Elixirs sometimes backfired, too, though. Al wrote to him about Xingese royalty who had died from consuming mercury. They thought it would make them live forever. What irony. People who wanted to live forever so much that it caused their death. Ed stared at his own messy scrawl. That’s what everyone had to read every time he sent a letter. Perhaps...he should work on his penmanship. He groaned and wiped a hand across his eyes. 

He thought about that painting again. “ _ The Foreigner _ .” She couldn’t have been so happy as a foreigner. Hell, she was wearing Cretan clothing. Didn’t she miss wearing the stuff she grew up in? Maybe the painter just caught her on a good day. 

Ed smacked his face and forced himself to focus. Focus. Focusing on what’s in front of him. Could alchemy do what alkahestry did? Could it produce elixirs? What would be the catch? Ed wondered the extent of the possibilities. Some alkahestrists theorized about a panacea that could cure all illnesses. Ed didn’t think that was possible, but maybe on a smaller scale. Get an elixir that could cure a certain type of illness. Like that alchemist lady who cured that person of cataracts. Get something to help with eye problems. 

Maybe they could cure Mustang’s perpetual bloodshot eyes. He doesn’t need some alchemical cure for that. He should just get more sleep. Or maybe that’s changed since Ed left. Maybe Mustang got eight hours of sleep every night. Ha. That’d be a fucking miracle. He was doing a lot back in Central. Makin’ people’s lives better. Hopefully. Hopefully, Ed doesn’t return just to see all the women officers wearing miniskirts. That’d be a fucking nightmare. Hawkeye would shoot him right in the forehead. 

Ed groaned. Why couldn’t he focus? He pushed the papers and decided to take a break. Even though he just started. Whatever. He was actually interested in what Mustang said about his work. “Politics.” The dirty p-word. Ed enjoyed helping people; That’s where his desire for research stems from. Learn more and help people. Try to leave more behind than what he found. Recently, as he wrote to Mustang after his taxi broke down and he had to sleep outside, he ended up in this town. He didn’t have plans to go there originally, but the people were nice. The town depended on a huge lake nearby where a lot of fishermen got their living. Unfortunately, a rich family had started to monopolize on its resources until the lake wasn’t producing enough for them. They eventually started to pollute the lake so much that many of the town’s families ran bankrupt. Now, a bunch of them were indebted to those assholes. They had the governor wrapped around their finger because they funded most of his projects. Ed usually resorted to violence in the past. Or deception. He realized, though, that the family’s grasp ran deep into the entire community. The only way to fix things was to set them up for change. He had to put his diplomat hat on and get the people to work together. They advocated for change to the governor to dismantle the corruption. When Ed had left, not all things were perfect. Those rich assholes were still around and the lake wasn’t magically better, but their situation had improved. The governor was forced to see the corruption and do something about it. Ed was lucky. The governor was a shitty person, sure, but he had the common sense to realize that an entire community had more power than a few people and their coins. Ed wasn’t sure what he would have done if the governor was different. 

Ed sighed as he uncapped his pen. He didn’t want to think about all of that anymore. He should write back to Mustang or some shit. 

_ Dear Edward,  _

_ It’s not good to be so restless. I wish I could impart some more of my wisdom to you, but I’m afraid I know the struggle all too well. When you’ve done all you can, but you go home at night - exhausted, mind you - and you still feel restless. You lay in bed, but your mind is buzzing with everything you could be doing. You can’t rest until you get up and do something and, even then, you still feel bothered. It happens more often than I care to admit. My best advice is to find contentment with what you have already accomplished. You are extremely accomplished, Edward. You have done more good for the world than I had at your age. It’ll take a lifetime for me to make up for what I’ve done. You should have no heaviness on your soul like that. Sleep easy at night.  _

_ And, yes, you’ve pegged me; I am part Xingese. I am uncertain how much since I don’t know my parents, but the woman who raised me says I am a quarter. I trust her word on it, but I do wish the details were less fuzzy. Most people do not notice. I think they assume I’m just an odd-looking Amestrian. Some might notice, but, thankfully, it has never caused any trouble for me. Truthfully, sometimes I mourn the culture I’ll never get to know or experience. Xing is quite far away. It's been too much time, so I think it’s a little too late for me to catch up. Do you feel like that? Do you wish that Xerxes was still around so you could meet your own people? Or do you pay it no mind since you grew up only knowing Amestris? I’m sorry if this has caused you any hardship.  _

_ That painting you mentioned does sound interesting. Greta does not have a large Xingese community. Perhaps you could gather more information for me and I could look into it for you.  _

_ Stay safe on your travels, _

_ Mustang _

  
  


Ed was still in the same city and he felt restless. He wanted to go somewhere else. See something new. This city was nice and shit, but he wanted to continue his research elsewhere. He was searching. He didn’t know for what exactly, but that was science. Asking questions about stuff we didn’t understand and grasping in the dark until we did. He didn’t want Al to know how distressed he was. If Al were with him, he would have known something was wrong in an instant. His brother was uncanny like that. He knew him too well. But, overwriting, it was probably hard for Al to detect anything wrong. He wrote about the usual. It sounded like he was getting along really well with that Xingese girl. Winry wrote about automail. What a surprise, really. Automail. Ed stared at the stacks of letters he kept and felt a random urge to rip them up. He didn’t, of course. But for a moment he could viscerally imagine the paper ripping to shreds between his fingertips. Maybe he could go somewhere far away and not tell anyone. Somewhere no one could send him another fucking letter. Where, though? He didn’t know. Mustang’s letters came every couple of weeks. Probably because he was the closest. He lived in Central, a big city. It annoyed Ed at first. At first. 

Mustang was less insufferable over paper. His smarminess and assholish tendencies didn’t transfer to paper very well. He could also write about interesting things. Not about automail or alkahestry. He wrote about all kinds of things he was doing. People he met, changes they’d made, things about Amestris. Ed felt like his own letters were inadequate. He was always searching for things to write about. He wasn’t used to such a fast-paced correspondence. Too soon, though, it became normal. He came to expect the letters from Mustang. He became used to it. Humans were so adaptable.

_ Dear Edward, _

_ I would not label myself an insomniac. Perhaps you are used to sleeping abhorrent amounts and taking numerous naps, but I do not require such amounts of rest. I don’t mind staying up late to get some more work done. You exaggerate - my eyes are not so bloodshot. There is no problem. I have tried some sleep remedies, but they are normally ineffective. Spend your energy on more serious worries, surely. I’m also absolutely touched that you pay such close attention to my face, Edward. Though I’d rather you focus on my high cheekbones than dark circles, I’ll let it slide for that one letter.  _

_ And perhaps it is time that I, the master, become the student once more. I thank you for your wisdom imparted to me. I still might want to visit Xing one day, but, strangely, your words bring ease to me. It makes sense and I shouldn’t have been so foolish.  _

_ And, Edward, as I’ve reiterated: you are still young. It is okay to have questions or uncertainties. None of us know what lays in store. You are searching right now. You are finding a path and once you lock onto what you’re passionate about, then it’ll become much easier. You’ll feel more guided then. It wasn’t your alchemy that formed your journey, but your determination and the people you met along the way. Very little has changed in that aspect.  _

_ I would like to finish this letter with the painting you told me about. I researched the history of Xingese immigrants to Creta. To keep this brief, apparently, a group of Xingese immigrants left Xing around the late 16th century because of religious differences. One Xingese woman became famous because she married a rich Cretan politician. He had her painted all the time, but historians noted that she might have had a secret relationship with one of the painters. Not much is known about the end of her life. But, would you have guessed it, I found a photograph of the painting you saw in the textbook I was reading. It was exactly as you had described it. It felt strange. I was seeing it in a tiny, black, and white photograph when you had seen it in its full glory in person.  _

_ I apologize for the length of this letter but thank you for indulging me.  _

_ Mustang _

Ed thought that Mustang was being stupid. But then his own stupid brain remembered what that Aerugonian mother told him. How she said home didn’t have to be a place, but a person. An anchor. Ed slowly placed Mustang’s letter on top of a stack of his other letters. Maybe that painter was the woman’s anchor. 

“God, I’m becoming all mushy n’ shit ‘cause of the Colonel,” Ed complained to himself. 


	4. One Foot In Front Of The Other

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A snowy chapter for a snowy (post) Christmas! Well, at least where I live. We're about halfway with the story and updates will still be every Saturday, so I realized that the last update is the day I fly back to college. Idk how I'm going to deal with that so that will be a problem for future me haha.

_Dear Brother,_

_I believe in karma, brother. Although my months spent in the harsh snowy mountains of Xing were rich with learning, it was horribly snowy. Always. I remember how you wrote about sunny Aerugo and temperate Creta. I remember. Now that I am in the capital, I have had no problem with snow. The worst thing might be that Ling’s castle is a bit drafty. I hope you enjoy your twenty feet of snow in Drachma, brother! That aside, I think you’re getting real close at a breakthrough. Perhaps this guy’s cousin just needs some of your brainpower and together you can isolate that bacteria. It’s really nice of him to let you stay there to work together. I’ve included some hopefully pertinent information that I found in Ling’s library with this letter. Write back to me as soon as you can!_

_Al_

_PS: I don’t think I could imagine you working for Drachma! Imagine what Major General Armstrong would do if she heard that. Don’t go turncoat on us now!_

_PPS: Hey Edward! This is Ling! If you do ever decide to betray Amestris, Xing opens its arms to you. You could be a royal scientist! Then I’d have both Elrics under my roof!_

_ED!_

_I don’t know when you’ll get this, but it is beyond stupid to go north without proper northern automail! I know that I fitted you with a new leg with better alloys for the cold, but I didn’t mean Drachman cold! It might be better than your old leg, but nothing beats actual northern automail! God, I can’t fit the millions of other solutions you could have done in this letter. I hope you freeze out there! Do not complain to me AT ALL about how cold it was._

_But seriously, Ed, please stay safe. Don’t go and do anything too stupid. Please don’t freeze the rest of your leg off. I really hope your research with this guy goes well, but not at the cost of your personal wellbeing. Don’t be stupid._

_Sincerely,_ _  
_ _Winry_

Ed read through his letters on the train ride up north. He already read them back in Creta, but the monotony of train travel was grinding on his nerves. He just wanted to get up and get his blood flowing. Of course, it was ass degrees cold outside, so he’d probably just get frostbite. He put the two letters aside. He didn’t get anything from Mustang. Big whoop. If the man was busy, Ed didn’t want to be a nuisance. Poor Mustang was too busy womanizing instead of sparing, what, twenty minutes to write a half-assed message? Whatever. Ed stared out the window to the landscape. It was all just hills and fields. Oddly enough, it could have been the fields of Resembool if Ed didn’t look too closely. He learned that the southwest corner of Drachma was pretty nice and had a lot of agriculture. It was early fall, though, so there wasn’t a lot to look at. Ed had his apprehensions at first. Should he have prepared more for the cold? Made a pitstop back in Resembool? There was his automail leg as well. He remembered how awful it was when he trekked to Briggs the first time around. Winry had given him a more cold-resistant leg for his travels before he left, but she confirmed his fears in her letter: the leg wouldn’t cut it once winter really hit. He bargained on staying for two to three months before...he didn’t know what. If success came, go straight back to Amestris. If it didn’t...keep traveling? Give up and go home? Ed continued to stare out the window. He expected to see his own tired reflection staring back at him, but the sky was too bright of a background. All he saw was fields and fields.

Ed shivered under his coat. It wasn’t the worst, he’d admit, but it was so drastically different from how nice Creta was. He held up the piece of paper again. He didn’t doubt the address that the Cretan man gave him, but he just wanted to make sure. It was already nice enough that this dude’s cousin - what was his name? Peter? - was letting Ed stay with him. He was walking down a row of houses, but no one was out. It gave Ed the creeps. Drachmans were less friendly than the people he’s met before. Maybe it was his own preconceived stereotypes, but everyone was so stoic. Ed checked the paper again and then looked up. He found the house. Fuckin’ eureka. He knocked on the door and stood up a bit straighter. After a moment passed, he looked at the paper again. Like it would change anything, but he was paranoid. He decided to knock again. Nothing.

“Uh..hey? It’s Edward Elric! Is Peter here?” Ed yelled. Silence. Maybe they were not home. He sighed and turned around. He was gonna have to find a hotel with a phone. 

“Yeah, I went to the place but no one opened up,” Ed said over the phone. It was getting late out and Ed just wanted to crash. 

“That is unusual. I talked with Pyotr just yesterday about your visit,” the Cretan man’s accented voice came over the receiver.

“He might’ve not been home,” Ed said.

“No...the whole family lives there. His grandparents should have been there...and the address is correct?” he asked

“Yeah, it matches the one you said. I’ll try again tomorrow,” Ed sighed. 

“Good luck, Edward. Good night,” he bid.

“Thanks. G’night,” Ed said before hanging up. He picked up his suitcase and went up the stairs. The place was modest and felt sturdy. Nothing was overembellished like some of the fancy places he’d seen back in Creta. 

He thought about writing to Mustang. That was dumb. If Mustang hadn’t written back, then Ed shouldn’t send two letters in a row. The man was probably just busy. Ed frowned nonetheless. The moment he felt like Mustang was really talking to him, the man went MIA. It just proved that Colonel Bastard did whatever he wanted. Mustang was growing tired and he didn’t see the point of writing to Ed anymore. Ed expected that. It was just like him. Why did it upset him so much, though? Had he raised his expectations too high? Ed closed his eyes. He forced himself to think of the Colonel laughing at him, but failed. All he saw was Mustang sitting on the bench next to him. Panama hat and glasses. Twilight framing him. And bloodshot eyes. 

“I apologize, Edward,” the Cretan man said over the phone the next morning. 

“I had a miscommunication with my cousin. He thought you were leaving from my house to Drachma and that journey is usually about three to four weeks. He wasn’t aware you were traveling from northeastern Creta which is a shorter amount of time,” he explained.

“Oh, so I can go to the house today?” Ed asked.

“About that,” the man started and Ed put a hand to his temples, “the family is in their cabin in the mountains right now. They’ve been hunting for pelts to sell,” he explained.

“When do they get back?” Ed asked.

“Since they’ve taken elderly people with them, it’d probably be another two weeks. Pyotr is a flexible person, so he’s offered two situations: The first is that you could stay in town for two weeks and wait for their return. The second, if you’re eager enough, is to travel up to their cabin. This would take a couple of days - less than a week for someone as young as you. In turn, my cousin would stay in the cabin with you and go over the research in the mountains,” he explained. 

“Go up to a cabin in the mountains?” Ed asked dryly.

“You see, Pyotr keeps all of his texts up there and conducts a lot of research in the cabin. You would have access to all of them there. Of course, he is willing to transport them back home for you with no trouble at all,” he replied. Ed thought about it. Staying in town for two weeks with nothing to do sounded awful. So did hiking in the snow, but it’d be a short journey. He’d have access to all of Pyotr’s research...But snow. 

“What do you think?” Ed asked.

“Well, I think it’s up to you. Pyotr is completely fine either way. Personally, I would stay in town!” he laughed. Ed was thinking about it. If he stayed in town, he lost two weeks out of his three months. That meant he would lose about 15% of his time there doing nothing. If he stayed two months, that’d already be a quarter of his time lost. And when did Ed ever make rational decisions? 

“Tell Pyotr I’ll be up there within the week!” 

Ed wished he was a more rational person. What was 15% in the long run of life? How bad would it be to return to Amestris in winter? No, Ed wished he thought back further than that. He should have just returned to Amestris and waited until spring to cross the northern border. He should have gotten that fucking northern automail.

“Shit,” Ed cursed as snow crunched beneath his feet. Drachma was a hell hole. There was no life in sight. He was wearing a coat and gloves, but his hands still felt so cold that they burned. The wind was harsh and dry on his eyes. What a fucking mistake. It was too late for Ed to turn back. If he did, he’d be stranded in the middle of nowhere for the night. He had to make it to the small village that he saw on his map before sundown. 

“Fuck,” Ed cursed again. His thighs ached, but he still tread forwards. He thought he’d never have to experience the bitter cold of frozen metal on his skin again, but alas he was a dumbass. ‘Oh, it’d be a pain to go all the way back and replace my leg just to be a little more comfortable’ - bullshit. Total bullshit. What the fuck. It would not have been too much of a pain. Stupid past Edward. Stupid Edward for not waiting. Stupid Edward for being here at all. He just kept moving forward. He was wearing boots, but some of the snow got into them and made his ankle ache. 

When he made it to the village, he almost said a prayer in gratitude. Almost. The inn was small and more expensive than it was worth, but a godsend to an atheist. The blankets were thick and wooly. His sleep was deep and dreamless.

“When you walked in, we thought you were one step in the grave!” The innkeeper’s wife laughed as she served him breakfast the next morning. Her accent was heavy, but a lot of people didn’t know Amestrian here. And for the plethora of languages Ed knew, Drachman was not one of them. 

“It felt like that,” Ed responded. In front of him were a sandwich, porridge, and black tea. He felt apprehensive, but it was delicious. He’d have to get a recipe for Winry. 

“A little Amestrian man out in the snow! I’m surprised you made it that far,” she continued. Ed grasped onto his knife and fork tightly. He would not stab the nice woman who fed him breakfast. 

“I don’t know how I made it, but I’m just thankful you took me in,” Ed said.

“If we saved your life, you should be willing to tip extra big for good service,” she laughed again. She was boisterous and energetic even though it was the morning. Ed would never understand morning people. 

“Hey, you guys are already bankrupting me with your prices,” Ed joked. She sighed and decided to sit down with him.

“We don’t get a lot of travelers out here. We’d prefer to charge less, but taxes are too high to afford it,” she explained. 

“Fuckin’ taxes,” Ed replied. She nodded.

“And they say all the money goes to helping our soldiers, but my son is a soldier and he says nothing is better. I wouldn’t mind paying so much if it at least helped them out there,” she continued. Another sigh.

“Isn’t there anything you guys can do?” Ed asked. She looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Us? Nothing, really. It’s been like this for as long as I can remember. Those bastards always have nice fur coats while our sons freeze,” she explained bitterly. She then suddenly laughed.

“Boy, if we tried ‘changing’ anything, it would probably end with no food on the table or getting shot in the head,” she said lightly. Ed did not think that was something to speak lightly of. 

“Where are your travels taking you?” she asked, changing the topic.

“I’m going north of here to a cabin. I’m joining…a friend’s family. Friend of a friend,” Ed told her. She looked thoughtful.

“If you’re going north, then you should go northwestern and stop by the village there,” she advised. Ed pulled out his map and looked at the pathways.

“Could I go northeast and take the mountain pass to go faster?” he asked. She laughed again.

“You, Amestrian, hiking in the snowy mountains after almost freezing to death? I would not advise it,” she told him. After his last horrible ass decision, he decided stopping by another village could not be so bad. He sat there long after she left planning his pathway. It would take him three days to travel which was good on time. It didn’t sit right with him, though. The fact that these people who lived in this wasteland of snow struggled so much to get by. He didn’t know what to do, though. He had to be on his way to the cabin. He couldn’t make Pyotr wait after being so understanding. What could Ed do here in a few days that would make a difference? But Ed didn’t have a defeatist attitude. He always tried doing something. 

“Isn’t there anything I could do?” he asked the innkeeper’s wife the morning of his departure. She looked at him sadly.

“You remind me of my son. Wanting to make things better...He’s just a bit older than you,” she told Ed. She picked up the hood on Ed’s coat and lifted it over his head.

“Focus on your journey, Edward. And worry about your own countrymen. You can’t save every sad little village you come across,” she told him. Ed was distressed. He had Pyotr waiting on him. Waiting with research that could, with hard work, become something to save people’s lives. When, though? How long would that take to happen? If anything did happen, what would Ed do then? Call it good and quit? What good was helping people with science when it couldn’t be as effective or immediate as it could be? It wasn’t anymore. 

Not since Ed lost his alchemy.

... 

“Goodbye,” he told her. He started his journey to the northwest. He made it this far because he kept going. He put one foot in front of the other and kept walking. Kept pushing forward despite everything. He couldn’t doubt himself now - not when his emotions were the most turbulent. He couldn’t let his hands become too numb from the cold. Couldn’t let his boots fill up with snow. 

When he got to the next inn, he would have to buy new gloves. 

There was something about the cold that waterlogged his brain. It made him think slower. It made him feel like he was shutting down every complicated process just so he didn’t freeze. Everything was focused on survival. He tripped more often since he was less focused. Maybe he would have felt more turbulent if he wasn’t so fucking cold. It had also been a while since he had to do any kind of combat. He hadn’t had to fight anyone in a long time which should be a good thing. Indicative of peaceful times. 

Well, there’s a whole bunch of excuses to list. None of them could have prevented Ed from getting shot in the shoulder. He cried out and he looked around. There was no one around him. There was nowhere to take cover. He did what he thought was best and let go of his suitcase, falling to the ground. He stayed very still despite the pain in his shoulder. Just play dead. He could feel the cold seeping through his clothes and saturating straight to the bone. What if they shot again? What if someone came up to him to check if he was alive? What would he do? He was too hazy to focus any of his senses. He just focused on not gasping for air. His shoulder was burning hot. The sun was high overhead, but it didn’t feel warm. It was just blinding.

Was this how he would die? After surviving everything, it was some Drachman sniper or something that got him in the end? No, he was still alive. He couldn’t think like that. He was only pretending to be dead. For how long? How would he know that he was in the clear? 

He waited. He couldn’t think about anything other than the snow. The wind. His breathing. About the pain everywhere. The innkeeper’s wife and her sad face entered his mind. Why did he leave her? He could have done something. Instead, he was so fucking useless. Instead, he was bleeding out in the snowy mountains of Drachma. And for what? The pursuit of science? What did he want? He didn’t want to be here. He should have visited Resembool so he could have seen Winry and Al again. He should have written more letters to everyone at Central. He should have visited Central again. He missed everyone there, but he felt like he wasn’t useful any longer. He was just a nuisance. A kid who didn’t know what he was doing. He shouldn’t have thought that. He knew it wasn't true, but he left anyway. He should have written that second fucking letter to Mustang. He should have told him to get more sleep. To take care of himself a little bit more. God, fucking Mustang-

It was a fucking miracle he heard footsteps crunching in the snow. He looked with his peripherals and saw someone in all black with a gun. Looked like a sniper to him. At the right moment, he suddenly kicked the sniper’s ankles, bringing them to the ground. He knew he wouldn’t get far in the snow, so he aimed to knock out the person. He went for another kick to the head, but the person used their gun to hit the side of Ed’s head. He stumbled and that’s when the sniper punched the side of Ed’s face. He fell to the ground and suffered more vicious kicks. He was too disorientated. He felt a blinding pain as the sniper stepped on his shoulder. The area with his gunshot wound. He choked out a cry. It wasn’t the worst pain he’d ever been in, but in that moment it was searing. Pain. Cold. He saw the gun and all he could think of was how, if he had his alchemy, he could have messed that motherfucker up. 

He pushed the sniper off of him and knocked the gun from their hands. With all his might, he whacked the side of the sniper’s head. He watched them fall to the ground. Ed stood there breathing heavily. He waited before nudging the person’s body with the gun, but there was no reaction. The person was still breathing.

“Ah, fuck..” he groaned as he picked up his suitcase. He lifted a hand to his coat and it was stained beyond all shit. Fuckin’ hell. He was injured...but he also knew that if he left this person here, they would probably freeze to death. He stumbled as he went to pick them up. He left the gun behind as he shifted the person on his back. He turned around and started to walk back to the village. The lady should know how to treat wounds, but Ed doubted this person had any serious ones. Should he ask her to help himself? He groaned from the weight but kept walking. It apparently wasn’t safe for him in Drachma. For some reason, he didn’t know why, a sniper was out for him. Snipers didn’t go shooting whoever they wanted. Someone paid a sniper. If he could go back to the city, it was a train ride away from the border of Amestris. He wouldn’t be able to go on the train with his wound. Was he safe on a train? Was a train even necessary? Fuck. He couldn’t think clearly enough to plan this. He didn’t want to know how much he was bleeding. He was probably getting blood on the person. He blinked heavily as he looked around. It all was snow. White and white and white. He stood very still. Fuck. When did he stop walking? And what about Pyotr? Would he endanger Pyotr by staying with him? Fuck it. None of that mattered now. He just had to get back. One foot in front of the other. He tried to get his feet to move but it felt impossible. The weight on his shoulders was heavier than just the other person’s body. He was holding so much more. Where should he go? He finally took a step. And then another. He just focused on walking.

It was almost dark by the time Ed made it back. He went slower carrying another person. Also with a fucking gunshot wound. The woman’s eyes were wide as he collapsed in front of her.

“Edward?” she exclaimed. The next part was hazy in his memory. He was so focused on getting back to her inn. When he finally did, he just collapsed. He remembered her asking who he brought with him. How did he get injured? He remembers her guiding him. Some time passed and suddenly pain brought his senses back sharply. She was holding a pink rag. She admonished him and he closed his eyes. The pain kept him conscious. He remembered her wrapping his shoulder. He remembers sleep and darkness.

The first thing that told Ed that he was dreaming was the nice weather. It was sunny and Ed was laying in the grass. It was the peaceful shit where the breeze was soft and pleasant. He felt peaceful, but the fields went on forever. As he sat up, there was nothing but grass and grass. The smell of apple pie wafted by and Ed turned to see Winry. She was smiling with the pie in her hands, but her eyes seemed so tired. Uncharacteristically bloodshot. They started to walk in the field, but to where Ed didn’t know. They kept walking. Ed knew that if he didn’t stop, he’d be stuck walking forever. He couldn’t do that, though. Not to Win. She knew this, though, and chucked the pie to the ground with a scream. A bloodcurdling scream that echoed in his mind. It made a cracking and squishing sound when it hit the ground. When he looked down at it, the pie’s contents of guts and maggots spilled out. 

He turned to run and was in a house. Many families had housed him on his travels, but he didn’t recognize this one. Where was he? He opened the door to the kitchen. Two people sat at the table with a pot of tea. It was the Aerugonian mother. The one he talked about home with and she told him about an anchor. Sitting across from her was Mustang.

“We were just talking about you, Ed,” the woman said.

“If I had known you felt that way, I would have stayed away,” Mustang said, suddenly in front of Ed. They weren’t in the house anymore. It was just them two and darkness.

“No, she’s wrong. I don’t...I’m trying not to,” Ed pleaded. 

“I’m trying not to feel anything,” he continued but kept trailing off. 

He felt like shit when he woke up. His head was aching and he was nauseous. He noticed his shoulder was bandaged up, but the bandages were brownish. Ugh. He sat there a while. Could he just pretend that the revelation he had in the snow was adrenaline-induced? That he wasn’t as lonely as he thought? But now that it was obvious, Ed’s heart ached. He was alone in that room, but he felt far away from anyone. Like no one cared. No one else in the world knew he was in there. All the people that he knew, his friends and family, had no idea what had just happened. He didn’t want to go back. At the same time, all he wanted to do was to fall asleep at the Rockell house. He wanted to curl up in bed and find oil stains in the morning. But he didn’t want that. 

“Are you awake?” he heard the innkeeper’s wife’s accented voice through the door. She entered and saw him.

“I knew you little Amestrian wouldn’t survive out there,” she told him.

“Who’re you calling little, old lady!” Ed yelled out.

“Is that how you treat someone who is treating you?” she yelled back at him. His head ached a bit more at that.

“You’re probably gonna charge me to Amestris and back just for looking at the bandages!” he yelled back. She laughed instead of giving him an answer. 

“Let me change the bandages,” she said as she sat down next to him. He gathered his loose hair and pulled it to the side for her. It was silent as she unwound them. 

“You got lucky that whoever tried to shoot you is a bad shot,” she told him once the wound was redressed. 

“Real fuckin’ lucky,” he muttered as he put on a shirt very tentatively. She helped him get it on in the end. She then brought over fabric and tied his arm up into a sling. He knew what she meant. His luck. They could have hit him right in the heart. 

“You need to get to a hospital,” she told him. He shook his head.

“Can’t do that. I need to get back to Amestris,” he told her softly. She didn’t ask anything.

“I couldn’t get the stains out of your old coat,” she told him. He groaned.

“Do you know where I can buy a new one for cheap?” he asked her. She furrowed her eyebrows.

“I might have one for you,” she said before getting up. She came back with a heavy fur coat.

“Let’s see if it fits,” she motioned for him to get up. He slowly stood, his head spinning. The coat was a bit big on him but soft and comfy.

“Are you sure I can take this?” he asked. She nodded. 

“My son doesn’t fit in that coat anymore,” she told him. She then led him out a backdoor and handed him his suitcase. 

“Get back to your country soon, Edward,” she told him. He looked at her again.

“Make sure to tell that person...that you found them passed out in the snow. Don’t mention me,” he told her. She nodded. He stood there.

“Thank you...for everything,” he told her.

“Thank you, Edward. Now go,” she bid him. He took a step out into the snow again. He kept his hair down this time as he made his way south. His head was fuzzy. Thankfully, he was closer to Amestris than he was to Creta. He probably wouldn’t even need to take a train. It would just be...a fuck ton of walking. Ed’s singular calf was about to get the work out of its life. So he kept walking. If he was honest, it was hazy. His head still hurt like a bitch and his shoulder was aching. He thought back to the multiple hits he took to the head and expressed mild concern. He should worry about his injuries later. He just needed to focus on walking for the moment. He wasn’t sure how long it’d take. The border should be close; It would take him about a day, he guessed, when he wasn’t all fucked up, but he wasn’t sure how long in the condition he was in currently. He kept walking. It was like walking through a fog even though it was just snow. It was monotonous. Same snow, same pain. He barely registered himself shivering.

Someone was taking him somewhere. He looked around and everything was blindingly light. The sudden warmth felt like it burned his skin.

“How long were you walking out in the snow, Edward?” a woman asked him. She had short blonde hair.

“D-Dunno,” he replied. He saw blue uniforms around him. Military. He didn’t know if he was hallucinating or not.

“You’re lucky those soldiers recognized you, or you’d have another bullet in you,” she said to him.

“I’ve been told that too many times,” he said. Luck. He was alive on pure luck.

“How did I get here?” he asked, suddenly realizing he was laying down.

“You tell me. You look like you’ve been walking for hours,” she told him. He had meant the bed, but he didn’t say anything. 

“How..how d’you know my name?” he asked. 

“You may have forgotten, but I treated you last time you were here at Briggs,” she answered. Ed closed his eyes to cover the harsh overhead lights. It was too bright in there.

“Don’t fall asleep, yet,” she ordered. 

“I dunno…” he trailed off. He had been walking. And walking. Walking. His head was killing him. He couldn’t feel much of anything else. He was so tired.

Ed was dreaming. Again. This time he was sitting up. He was leaning against a tree. Above him, the light peaked through the cracks of the leaves. The wind shifted everything and made the light speckle. He was wearing a cotton shirt and had no pain whatsoever.

He noticed Mustang sitting next to him. They were shoulder to shoulder and holding hands. It felt nice. Warm. 

“You never answered,” Ed accused him. The letter. Ed never got a response.

“I was busy. I wanted to, though,” Mustang turned around to face him. There weren’t any harsh lines on his face. No dark circles or bloodshot eyes. He looked peaceful. 

“I don’t know what I want,” Ed confessed. 

“I make all the wrong decisions. I pretend like I know what I’m doing, but I realized that I don’t. I don’t know what I want to do or where I want to be,” Ed continued. He ripped up some grass next to him. He tore apart the blades and let it fall onto his lap. 

“I miss everyone. I fuckin’ miss you,” Ed turned to Mustang. Ed bit at the inside of his mouth. 

“When I was laying out there in the snow, I realized how much I missed you. I missed how funny you are. I missed how comfortable I am with you. I missed that, no matter how lost I felt, you were always so sure about everything. And I choose to be mad instead because I know you don’t miss me. You probably don’t even think about me,” Ed ranted. A gust of wind blew and rustled the leaves again. It rustled the grass. The whole world was moving, but Ed just sat there.

“I think about you,” Mustang simply responded. Edward wanted to laugh, but he didn’t. 

He woke up. He was disorientated, so he just laid there for a long time. Slowly he realized his surroundings. Clean tile and orderly beds. Everything was white. As he breathed, he became aware of his shoulder. It was rebandaged and not bloodstained. It ached like a bitch, though. He saw his suitcase next to his bed. His coat and some papers were stacked neatly on the bedside table. He reached out to the papers. Two letters. He recognized one as Winry's and set it aside. He gently opened up Mustang’s. 

_Edward,_

_I’m not sure when you’ll read this, but I have just gotten news from Briggs that you showed up injured coming from the Drachman border. At the moment, they are unsure of why or how you sustained your injuries. I apologize for not writing sooner, but I think it is important that I travel north to ask some questions-_

Ed quickly sat up in his bed and the sharp pain from his shoulder made him suck in air through his teeth. He squinted and looked at the date on the letter. Fuck, he didn’t know how much time had passed since then. He skimmed through the rest of it before swinging his legs to the side of the bed. He immediately got up, but stumbled a bit. He steadied himself with a hand on the bed and looked around. The exit...the exit...he saw the doors on the other side of the room. He grabbed his coat before stumbling to the white doors. He tried putting his injured arm in the sleeve, but winced in pain and stopped moving. The door then swung open, a wide-eyed Mustang was on the other side. Ed was speechless. His fucking luck had apparently run out.

“Huh,” Mustang stared at him, “you look like shit.”


	5. Just My Fuckin' Luck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've said this on some of my other social media, but if you haven't heard, basically my old computer has finally decided to stop working and I'm in the process of getting it fixed or buying a new one. All these chapters are already written, I just usually edit them before they're posted and it's a little rough on mobile. We pull through, though. Thanks for sticking with this haha :)

Ed’s face fell in annoyance. Even still, he felt self conscious about his knotted hair and the dark circles he could feel under his eyes. Wow, he would say the tables have turned, but a quick squint at Mustang revealed his own dark circles. 

“I got fucking shot, you bastard!” he yelled at him and pointed a finger in his direction. Not the one he wanted, though; just his pointer finger.

“Yes, I’m aware. Sit down. I need to ask some questions,” Mustang ordered impersonally. Ed bit the inside of his mouth. He didn’t want to see Mustang, but he wasn’t acting how he expected. Ed slowly slipped off the coat and sat on the edge of the bed. Mustang sat in the chair opposite of him.

“Where’s the rest of ‘em, Colonel?” Ed asked without looking at the bastard.

“Brigadier General. And Hawkeye is speaking with Major General Armstrong currently,” Mustang said. It was unnerving. He was acting all stiff and curt. Ed didn’t know what he expected.

“Wow, maybe I’ll give you back, hmmm, 260 cens...with interest,” Ed joked, leaning back onto the bed.

“It’s fine,” Mustang responded. He pulled out some papers or some bullshit Ed wasn’t focusing on. So Mustang was just going to act all high and mighty? What kind of bullshit?

Mustang read the report aloud, “This says that a Briggs soldier saw a figure walking through the blizzard at approximately 3:00 am. He recognized the figure as the former Fullmetal Alchemist and went to question you, but noticed your injuries and poor condition-”

“Why the fuck are you even here?” Ed asked. He was gripping the bed sheets tightly. Mustang looked up from his papers.

“Pardon?” Mustang asked.

“You heard me,” Ed lashed out.

“You read the fucking report, so why bother coming anyways? I showed up with an injury and passed out. That’s the story. Surely it can’t be worth your precious fucking time,” Ed continued. Mustang’s face was set, but Ed could tell the man was tense. It was the way his jaw was set or the paper crinkling between his fingers. Mustang opened his mouth again.

“I would appreciate if you cooperated-”

“So fucking what? I’m not military anymore, bastard. You can’t control what I do,” Ed interrupted him. Mustang lowered the paper report to his lap. It irritated Ed that he kept such a calm face. It was like he felt nothing, piece of shit.

“This isn’t about you,” Mustang said looking straight into his eyes. That made something in Ed’s stomach drop.

“This is about an inquiry into possible Drachman tampering with and/or sabotaging our government. You are, unfortunately, caught up in a bigger investigation,” he explained. Ed wished he read the letter closer. Looking back, did it seem impersonal? Ed remembered the lines and thought they expressed some kind of concern, but apparently not. Ed read it wrong. 

“Well, I would appreciate it if you let me heal my gunshot wound,” Ed gestured to his shoulder, “before you harass me.” They both sat there for a moment, Ed waiting expectantly for Mustang to leave. He noticed the tenseness of Mustang’s shoulders. His eyes wandering everywhere except for Ed. His knee bouncing silently. He sighed and straightened out his papers on the bedside table.

“Get better,” Mustang bid before leaving the room. Ed listened to the click of the military boots on tile before the click of the door shutting. Ed was still fuming, though. The fucking audacity! So Mustang thought he would just do whatever he wanted and Ed would cooperate? So Ed was just supposed to bend over backwards for the asshole? He slumped down onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. He laid there until the doctor yelled at him for not coming to her sooner. He just nodded, not able to gather the will to care. 

Ed was happy to see Hawkeye. He never thought he would think that, but she was much more bearable than Brigadier General Asshole.

“I think it’s important that we get you back to a hospital in Central,” Hawkeye explained to Ed.

“They were able to treat you here momentarily, but the doctor told me they didn’t want to remove the bullet. You’ll need to get a good hospital soon if you don’t want an infection. You can come with us,” she continued. Ed raised an eyebrow.

“So, you’re all gonna go back just ‘cause of me?” he asked.

“We already talked to the people here about what they knew while you were still unconscious. It’s time we headed back anyways,” she told him. He nodded pensively. He didn’t want to return with Asshole Mustang, but where else would he get a quick ride outta Briggs to Central?

“Sure, but if Mustang’s being a shit I want rights to clock him in the face,” Ed said half seriously. 

“I’m sorry, but I can’t allow you to do that no matter how much I approve,” she joked, but noticed Ed’s solemnity.

“You know he was concerned about you,” she said softly. Ed laughed dryly.

“Yeah,” Ed drawled. Fucking yeah. She furrowed her eyebrows, but said nothing.

“...Let’s get to the truck,” she instructed.

Ed has survived a lot of shit. Homunculuses. No, Homunculi. Ugh. He’s survived Scar. Falling onto a metal pole. Drachma. The almost end of the world. Winry. He’s been through some shit. In that moment, though, Ed wanted to die more than anything. The truck was dead silent except for the rumbling of the motor and the wheels crunching over the terrain. No one spoke. Ed sat in shotgun next to some Central officer driving while Mustang and Hawkeye sat in the back. No one said a word. Ed sat tense in his seat without peaking back at Mustang. Not once! He felt oddly proud about that. As he swallowed heavily, though, he decided that surviving all the shit he’s been through wasn’t worth it. Maybe he should have just let the bullet in his shoulder take him out.

“How long will this take?” Ed eventually asked. Hawkeye cleared her throat.

“About three days,” she responded.

“Great,” Ed responded. His shoulder was giving him hell. It burned and he was afraid to see what laid under the bandage. He was just gonna have to tough it out. Three fucking days. He didn’t want to be in the same vehicle as the asshole for three fucking days. But no, Hawkeye insisted. She spouted some bullshit about the sensitivity of his condition and the threat of his life under the Drachman government. Whatever. She seemed oddly persistent. Well, in the end, he couldn’t say no to Hawkeye. No one said no to her, fucking she-devil. Even thinking that gave Ed chills like she could read his mind. He gave a plethora of speedy apologies in his head. He snuck a look back at her, but she was whispering something to the Colonel. No, the Brigadier General. It seemed surreal. Wrong. Such a big change and he had no idea about it. No letter about the news. No, being Brigadier General must make him so busy. So much work to do...smarmy bastard was probably just wooing more ladies, avoiding more work. Avoiding more people. Ed furrowed his brows as he stared out the snowy whiteness outside the car. Maybe Mustang was moving on. He was doing so fucking well in his own life, so why bother with some little shit like Ed? He wasn’t worth his time. Ed felt a pang in his chest that surprised him. He didn’t want to care about it. He didn’t want to let it affect him.

“Are you comfortable, Ed?” Hawkeye asked. Ed stared back at her.

“Uh, yeah. I guess. Except for, y’know…my arm,” Ed responded.

“Ah, yes. Your arm,” she repeated. 

“I hope we can get you to a hospital as soon as possible,” Hawkeye said after a moment. Ed responded with a casual uh-huh. He continued to look outside the window.

“It’s a lotta snow,” Ed commented.

“Yes,” Hawkeye agreed. She looked like she wanted to say something more, but couldn’t find anything to mention. Another silence.

“The north doesn’t usually get this much snow this time of year,” Hawkeye said.

“Cold autumn?” Ed asked. She nodded. He bit the inside of his mouth as he looked at the dashboard. He couldn’t force himself to ask anything else even though he had a ton of questions. It was gonna be a long fuckin ride back to Central. It’ll be worse than that time he challenged Al who could go the longest without sleep. And Ed  _ won  _ that.

“Why are we camping out in the snow?” Ed yelled! He was talking to some officer. Something like fuckin Sargeant Maurice. 

“We aren’t near civilization of any kind, sir. We camped on the way up as well,” the young officer said stiffly in fear. His posture was quite tense.

“Isn’t that a deathwish? To camp out in the fucking snow?” Ed asked again. It was ass degrees outside. 

“I’m so sorry. We should have warned you,” the officer cowered. Ed looked around. It was cold as fuck and windy. Ed didn’t want to die in the snow. He didn’t escape a sniper just to freeze to death with a handful of members from the Amestrian military. Far from anyone he cared about. Ed’s eyes suddenly dropped in realization. Would he have to sleep in the same tent as Mustang? He looked around.

“Is everything okay?” The soldier asked tentatively. 

“No,” Ed rasped. Ed felt weary. He was so tired. His shoulder hurt. He was cold. How nice it would be to fall asleep in a nice, big bed.

“Stop harassing Sargeant Maurer,” he heard Hawkeye command and Ed tensed up.

“Yes, ma’am!” Ed called out. Sergeant Maurice (Maurer?) looked just as scared as himself. Hawkeye walked over and dismissed the soldier with a hand motion. He quickly ran out of the situation, leaving Ed stranded. 

“He was recently promoted. Everyone says it was due to his family and that he isn’t ready,” she commented dryly.    
“Anyways,” she turned her attention to Ed, “your condition is sensitive, but you’ll be staying with the lower ranking officers since you are a civilian now. The medic on our team will need to see you every night and every morning to check up on you. I suggest you do so right now,” Hawkeye informed him.

“Can you fill me in on everything tomorrow? I mean  _ everything _ ,” Ed asked her. She nodded and shooed him off.

The medic was very makeshift and had all of her supplies in a little suitcase. She situated herself on the back of a truck. She waved at him as he approached.

“Edward Elric! Nice to meet you! My name is Amelia Hertz, but just call me Amy,” she extended her hand out to him. She seemed friendly, but Ed was tired and done with everyone’s bullshit.

“Nice to meet ya,” he said before slumping down. 

“I’ll need you to take off your coat and shirt so I can change your bandages,” she instructed. He shivered and groaned before deciding the quicker he went, the quicker it’d be over with. She tried making some small talk as she treated him, but he only responded in short, noncommitted answers. He pointedly stared at the darkening sky. 

“I heard this isn’t your first time up north! Is it easier the second time around?” she asked.

“Nope,” he answered, lifting his arm for her to wrap the new bandage around.

“Brigadier General!” the girl (Annie?) exclaimed and went to attention. She glanced over lazily and saw Mustang. It was like Ed could feel the energy drain from him. The world was cruel to him. He just wanted to sleep. 

“I heard Edward was being treated right now,” Mustang said. Ed raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t you have better things to do than bother me?” Ed asked. He saw the girl (Amanda?) jolt incredulously at his rudeness. Her eyes were wide as she looked between the two of them. Mustang took a breath, held it, and let it out in a white cloud.

“I simply wanted to check up on you,” he said softer. Ed didn’t want that to get to it. He didn’t want it to matter. But it did. Ed was fucking stupid. 

“I’m fine,” Ed protested, looking away.

“We should really get him to a hospital as soon as we can, though!” The girl insisted. Fuck, he couldn’t remember her name for the life of him.

“Right. I can’t imagine what it’d be like to lose an arm,” Ed joked. The girl laughed and patted his arm with some words of comfort. He didn’t really notice, though. He was focused on the way Mustang’s eyes softened. The small puffs of breath coming from his mouth. Ed wished he could harden his heart. Wished he could not care about that man at all. Forget everything. At the same time, he wished that he was cared about just as much as Ed cared about him. 

“I must get going. Goodnight,” Mustang bid and the medic waved goodbye. Just like that, he was gone.

“Fuck, I’m cold!” Ed yelled and the girl helped him put his shirt back on.

“Come back whenever you need help...or whenever you want to chat, really!” she told him bashfully.

“Sure,” he responded and waved goodnight with his good arm. He was excited to finally close his fucking eyes. Get away from the confusing world of people. 

Ed found out that the medic’s name was Amy the next morning. She was a chipper morning person. Ed was not. He was falling asleep as she cleaned at his wound.

“Did you not get much sleep last night?” she asked with concern. He remembered laying in his sleeping bag surrounded by soldiers, some snoring. He was wide awake thinking about everything until the birds chirped. 

“Not really,” he answered. She scolded and chided him as she cleaned his shoulder.

“You’re healing! It’s important that you get rest and go easy on yourself. Any normal person would be bedridden right now,” she told him as she secured the last bandage. He nodded, but didn’t commit her comments to heart. 

“You are incredibly lucky that the bullet didn’t sever an artery or break a bone, but it’s still a nasty injury,” she told him. He nodded and nodded. Yeah, his fuckin luck. He was tired of hearing about it.

“Let’s get back in the trucks. We need to get going if we ever want to get back to Central,” she instructed while packing up her supplies. He stumbled over to his truck - the one with Hawkeye. And Mustang. He sat back in shotgun, but when he glanced back, Mustang seemed distant again. Ed turned around like it didn’t bother him. Like it wasn’t disappointing. They picked up some distance before Hawkeye spoke.

“Ed, you wanted to know more about the Drachma investigation?” she asked. 

“Yeah. Well, any details you’re willing to give to me,” he responded. 

“We first noticed that many of our soldiers had been killed by Drachman soldiers, but it was kept under wraps. It was suspicious. We assumed there were men within our government who were working against us. Then, we sent out spies to the north, but none of them survived. This was concerning since how far up the command did the corruption lie? You have been traveling, so I’m not sure if you know, but recently Drachma’s leader has declared that Amestrians were not allowed in their country as well as a statement denying our claims against them,” she explained as Ed soaked it all in.

“We had tried some communications, but either received hostile responses or none at all. We decided to travel to the northern border and investigate what we could, but we weren’t able to discover much,” she continued.

“Aren’t you able to trace who made the cover ups or was involved with the spies?” Ed asked.

“We investigated that as well, but we suspect it’s someone such as a lieutenant general or a high ranking officer who could access our files without us even knowing. It’s frustrating,” she responded. He wanted to think about it, but he was feeling hazy that morning. He let go of the thought in his mind and rested his head back.

“That’s some crazy shit goin’ on. I can’t help ya,” was his response. She nodded tersely. 

“I understand,” she responded. He grabbed his head and closed his eyes.

“Fuck, I wish the people in the government weren’t such assholes. They should be helping people,” he complained, but realized it could have offended Mustang. He then realized that he shouldn’t care.

“Not everyone is so magnanimous like the people’s alchemist,” she joked lightly. Former alchemist. He didn’t correct her, though.

“It’s not out the fuckin ‘kindness of my heart’ bullshit. It’s just basic human decency,” Ed defended.

“And too many people lack that,” Mustang interjected. Ed frowned. The car went silent again. Ed felt too nauseous to continue any kind of conversation - especially not any conversation including Mustang. He kept his eyes closed as he felt himself begin to doze off. 

“What’s that?” Ed heard the guy driving the car ask. A loud noise and bright light made Ed’s eyes shoot open. The car swerved as the one in front of them was tossed to the side. Dark smoke curled upwards. Another explosion went off and the shock shook the vehicle they were in. The car bounced upwards a bit, but went down again with a thunk. Ed’s head was swimming. He wanted to be more perceptive, but this morning was so shitty. It was not his lucky day. Maybe he used all his luck up and now he was fucked. That made sense. He clumsily opened his door and dove in the snow. He grasped onto his searing shoulder as he looked around, but was disorientated. He heard some grunts and shouts of combat, but crammed his eyes shut. It felt like a wave was crashing over his head. It was scrambling up all his neurons and brain cells. Now was not the time for this to be happening. He forced himself to stand up and scan the area. Trucks and running soldiers were a visual impediment, but he saw some attackers in black. Loud yelling. Rapid gunshots. Ed held onto his shoulder as he ran over to an officer he recognized, but had to quickly block a hit from someone in black.

“Your outfit looks real fuckin familiar,” Ed noted. All black. Like the sniper that tried to fucking kill him. He ducked to the side from a kick. Of course. Ed thought he was fine within the borders of Amestris, but had he forgotten how all the shit in his life happened here? Great. Fucking great. The person went for his face, but Ed blocked it with his good arm. He held up for a short amount of time, but quickly started to sweat and breath heavily. It was exhausting to fight in close combat. Eventually, a good kick to the chest sent him to the ground. Ed _ hated _ close combat. Al always beat him at it. Why did these guys want him fucking dead, anyways? He wondered what the fuck Pyotr was up to before getting a kick to the gut. He started to cough and splutter. Then he got a kick to his temple. He tried sitting up and throwing a punch, but he got hit near his wound. That sent out searing pain waves that crippled him. He cried out and fell back down. 

“I swear I’m usually a better fighter than this,” Ed said through gritted teeth. A punch to his jaw made his teeth grind harshly and stars burst in his vision.

“Edward!” someone cried out.

Ed barely registered the sudden brightness. Heat. Fire! He looked and saw Mustang snap. His flames took out the leg of the person attacking him, bringing the person to their knees with a cry of agony. The smell of charring reached Ed’s nose. Others had been taken out already, but no dead bodies. Just groaning. He assumed Hawkeye was doing her fair share of gunning the fuckers down. A wave of blinding pain incapacitated him, but he heard the action dying down, so he stayed down.

“Edward!” a male officer called out before picking him up. The sudden movement made Ed nauseous.

“Hey, I’m not some fucking princess,” Ed protested weakly.

“Holy shit,” the officer exclaimed and started running. Ed thought he could hear Mustang’s snaps, but it was probably his imagination. There’d be no way over the sounds of everything else going on. His shoulder was searing.

“Amelia!” the soldier called out. Ed stared out to nothing as things were happening. He was set down. His shirt was lifted. Bandages shifted.

“There’s too much blood. I think his wound has opened up!” he heard. That wasn’t good. There was a potent disconnection, though. These problems were not his own.

“His condition is worsening. We need to get him to a hospital!” he heard Amy yell through the cloudy haze. It sounded concerned for Ed. 

“You better fuckin’ do that,” Ed rasped out. He sat up and looked at her wide eyes. He then looked over to Mustang. His eyebrows were deeply furrowed.

“When the fuck did you get here?” Ed asked. 

“I carried you over here!” he exclaimed indignantly. Ed sat there for a moment. He blinked

“Ah, fuck,” Ed cursed. 

Ed didn’t ask to be involved with bullshit, but it always found a way to him. It was like he was some magnet for trouble. Or maybe he just always found his way to it. Like trouble was the magnet and Ed was the unfortunate nail about to be sucked in for a ride. What a fuckin ride. The journey back to Central had low morale and, of course, was hazy for Ed. He was pretty sure he vomited at some point. They put him on some kind of pain med which was awesome, but he could only remember snippets of everything. The meds knocked him out so well that his dreams only consisted of dark nothingness. Maybe that was a good thing because then he wouldn’t have to cope with the problems he shoved down into his subconscious. He remembered when they dropped him off at the hospital, he had saw himself in a mirror. Bruises dotted his face and limbs along with the pallor and dark circles on his face. The doctors did their shit, though, and everything was fine. A great fucking happily ever after. If only. It would have been peaceful without Winry visiting him.

“You idiot! We warned you to not go north and look what happened!” she yelled at him. His arm was all wrapped up and in a sling. He also suffered minor injuries from the attack on the cars.

“It could have been worse,” Ed defended feebly.

“Yes, like you could have died! That is literally the only thing that could have gone worse!” she clutched onto her wrench tightly. Ed gulped in fear, but knew she wouldn’t do it. 

“What would we have done if something happened to you?” she asked. The guilt muted him. What would they have done? He wouldn’t admit it, but he had been acting without thinking. He just went forward and made shitty mistakes.

“Take a break. Think about what you want to do going forward. And no Drachma!” she yelled the last part at him. He nodded as best he could.

“I’m pretty sure that’s illegal anyways,” he responded. She seemed more content after hearing that.

“We’ll go back once you’ve healed up and been discharged. I’m pretty sure Al almost got on the first train back here. We convinced him not to, but I think he wants to come back next winter,” she told him. He perked up at that.

“Al’s coming back?” he asked excitedly. 

“Not for a while, but yeah,” she said.

“Will I be able to call him?” he asked. 

“Not now. It’s late. Call him tomorrow,” she insisted. Ed sighed. He was happy enough with that news and waved Winry goodbye. The hospital was boring. The stark whiteness of everything was impersonal and made him feel disconnected. All he had were his thoughts. Lying awake in the darkness, thoughts of everything haunted him. The memories intruded and he quickly shoved them away. He didn’t want to think about all of them. How he almost bled out to death in the snow. How impersonal Mustang was. But also how Mustang protected him and carried him to safety. No, instead he thought about how a lifetime ago Al was sitting in a hospital room saying that he wanted to travel to Xing. Ed knew he wanted to help people. He knew that he knew a lot about and was passionate about science. But he became disillusioned with it. The tie was severed and now he was wandering, reaching for the rope. He was disillusioned with how slow progress was. The people in charge were doing all the wrong things and he wished that he could just punch those problems away. Hit and fight all of his problems until they didn’t bother him anymore. 

“Edward,” Mustang greeted. He sat stiffly in his chair. 

“If you’re here to harass me about Drachma or what happened, I don't wanna deal with that right now,” Ed immediately responded. Mustang nodded.

“No, I wouldn’t do that. I understand what you’ve been through,” he responded. Ed’s eyes widened in surprise. He wasn’t sure how to respond to that. It wasn’t Mustang to be so respectful. Or solemn. It was fucking weird.

“Uhh, kay? So what’re you here for, then?” Ed questioned suspiciously. 

“I wanted to see how your injuries were healing,” he shifted in his chair. Ed kept staring.

“I’m fine. Good talk,” Ed tried shooing the man off. 

“I mean, I also wanted to talk. More,” Mustang said. Ed pursed his lips. He remembered his panic in the snow. He feared that he would never see Mustang again. And Mustang had helped him during the attack.

“Is it just ‘cause you love hearing the sound of your voice so much?” Ed joked, deciding to be more relaxed. He leaned back in his pillows and, perhaps, saw some of the tension in Mustang’s shoulders ease. 

“You’ve got me there,” Mustang also leaned back in his chair. He smiled like he used to: full of shit. 

“Are you going back to Resembool?” he asked. It brought Ed back to the last time they had a conversation like this. It felt like so long ago, but he remembers it clearly. Returning to Resembool to recalibrate or heal. For whatever shit it was, it was the pitstop before getting up and going again. 

“I don’t know,” Ed said without thinking. It was the truth, but he hadn’t meant to say that. 

“I mean, I gotta go back ‘cause my automail is fucked. I don’t know where I’m going after that, though,” Ed played it off. 

“Certainly not back to Drachma,” Mustang joked. Ed snorted.

“Yeah, I’m not jumping back into the icy jaws of death,” he said dryly. 

“I assumed that you would resume your research elsewhere,” Mustang said. That’s what Ed thought, too. Now he wasn’t so sure. It was cut off so suddenly. He wasn’t sure where or how to pick up the pieces. The motivation wasn’t there to help him. 

“I dunno…” Ed trailed off. 

“It kinda sucks that I don’t know so much. I wish I had more direction,” Ed said. He tried acting like it wasn’t so serious though. It was more like ‘what an inconvenience.’

“Just give it time, Edward. It’s normal to fall into slumps,” Mustang responded. This didn’t feel like a slump, though. It felt like months and months of creeping doubt finally paralyzing him. Forcing him to see that he’s so unhappy with his life. 

“It just feels like I’m doing nothing. I go place to place. I learn things. I interact with people. But what have I really accomplished since I left Resembool? I’m going back there soon, but what’s changed? Really?” Ed suddenly confessed. Mustang’s brows were furrowed.

“You may not see it, but you’ve affected things more than you think. Everything you’ve done and learned stays with you,” he responded. The thing is, returning filled Ed’s stomach with dread. Going back felt like a failure. 

“I guess,” was all he said. 

“Give it time, Edward,” Mustang advised. Ed sighed and pushed a hand through his fringe. The dread. It made him uneasy. Restless. There were so many things he wanted to ask about, but he couldn’t bring himself to mention it.

“I don’t wanna go back. Dunno where else I would go, so...” Ed said trailed off. His statement sat in the air for a moment. A silence. Like Mustang wasn’t quite sure what to say. 

“To the Rockbell house?” Mustang asked.

“Yeah. Winry visited me earlier and said we’re going back once I’m ready,” Ed confirmed. 

“Ms. Rockbell was here?” he asked. Ed nodded.

“Yeah. She gave me hell ‘cause she ‘warned me not to go north’ and shit,” Ed sighed. He turned his lips up in an exasperated smile.

“I know she means well, but she brought her fuckin’ wrench with her. It’d be a new low for Win to beat up an injured person,” Ed complained. Mustang simply nodded. 

“Are you tired? It’s getting quite late,” Mustang brought up. There was more Ed wanted to say. Why did you never respond? Were you just that busy? Do you care at all? 

“I didn’t notice,” was all he was able to say. Mustang stood up looking at his watch.

“It really is. I hope you have safe travels,” he bid. Ed wanted to tell him to stop. Reach out and grab something to hold onto. Why was he going so suddenly?

“Yeah. Bye.” Ed felt the familiar feeling of rejection. The coldness and distance. Ed was used to it. Used to Mustang suddenly pushing him off. It made him mad. It made him hopeless. In the end, it was his own fault for not being brave enough to say something. He was tired of letting it torment him. So, he closed his eyes. Mustang.

Mustang’s eyes, tired, scanning over papers. Bloodshot as they read letters. 

His dark hair, messy from his hands running through it. 

The hands he used to pen his letters.

Ed decided that he should just let it melt away. 

He wanted to forget.

To let go. 


	6. Letting Go (trying to, at least)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is late. I'm still having computer issues and I'm in the process of packing for college. I promise I'll respond to comments once I'm settled in my dorm with a fixed computer!! All of you have been so lovely and your kind words mean a lot!! :)

_Dear Edward,_

_It feels like such a long time since you’ve been back. Man, Granny hasn’t even seen you since you and Al both left for your travels. I understand why you didn’t return after the Drachman incident, but she really misses you guys. It gives me some anxiety to leave her home alone for so long. But I realized how much I missed Paninya when I saw her again. We’re really happy living together, but I can’t promise her I’ll always be there. I sometimes want to return home or travel. I especially have been wanting to study northern automail some more, but because of obvious recent events, I’ve stayed down south._

_And so, I think I understand you a little better, Ed. At first, I admit, I wondered how it was so easy for you guys to leave. We grew up in the same little house. Wouldn’t you miss the little town we’ve known forever? Don’t you ever get tired of being on your feet? But I thought saying goodbye to Paninya again would be so sad, but it wasn’t. It was more like I’ll see you later! You know? She waved me goodbye and then I was gone. Even as I’m sitting here in Resembool, I think of her constantly. It’s not that I’m going to sit here the entire time and miss her. It’s more like I’m anticipating my return. Is that it for you? That the going away makes coming home just that much better? It’s that for me, at least. Maybe I don’t understand you still! Anyways, I’m ecstatic to see you two again. Safe travels over the desert!_

_Winry_

_Dear Brother,_

_I’ve been packing for the journey back home. Ling held a going away banquet. Many of my friends and masters came to say goodbye and I was so sad. Mei cried forever. I reassured her that I’d return sometime and that I’d write to her. She couldn’t be consoled, though. Ling later told me perhaps it was for the best. She would have to marry someone within the royal family, so she would have to get over me some time. She’s still young. It made me kind of sad. Imagine never getting to marry someone you love. It’s too sad for me to write about. Happy thoughts! I’m excited to get back, but not excited for the journey. I don’t like all the walking, cars, and trains I’m going to have to suffer through. I suppose you’re more used to it than I am, but it can’t be fun for everyone. The reward at the end of the journey is what will be worth it. I miss Winry and Granny so much! And I guess you a little bit. I’m just kidding! When we get back, you can give me your old research notes. I know you’re not focusing on research anymore, but I’d love to see what you had collected! Perhaps we could spar and I could pass on some Xingese martial arts tips. Or have you picked up anything interesting in Ishval to share? No matter what, it’ll be a happy holiday for sure._

_Sincerely,_

_Al_

Ed had read through the letters several times already. Part of him wanted to pen a response, but he knew he’d be back before they'd arrive. He wouldn’t need to communicate with them over pen and paper anymore. What a fucking relief. He wished he could appreciate the moment more. The distant chatter of people sitting on the train. The sunset outside that made everything glowey. The feeling of returning after another long amount of time. Truth was, though, that he was so fucking tired. He had been traveling for days on end and his eyes burned. So much of travel was just sitting down and waiting to get to the next location. Then sitting down and waiting. It wasn’t exciting for Ed anymore like Al had mentioned.

Winry was half right. Returning home was nice, but it was eh. Go home, get up, and travel again. Once the holidays were over, Ed would return to Ishval again. After Ed had healed from his horrible fucking gunshot wound, he decided to not go back with Winry. It appeared that she had come to an understanding at that moment. Ed wasn’t tied to Resembool like she was. She waved him goodbye as she boarded her train. Ed has strengthened his resolve. He had wondered for a while, though, what he should do next. A serious consideration was just staying in Central, but that was too stiff. The routine of life there was too concrete. He thought about returning to Creta or Aerugo, but those places were still fresh in his mind. He then thought about going to Ishval. Would they even welcome an Alchemist like him? He tentatively boarded a train east and then trekked through the desert. He was familiar with the hot sun overhead and sand in his boots. The people of Ishval were extremely kind and open. He remembered one Ishvallan grandmother who, without prompt, asked him where he was going to stay that night. She immediately invited him over and her family was also kind. He was overwhelmed with their generosity. Many families were so eager and giving with their kindness. Ed couldn’t understand. He was Amestrian and had caused their people a great deal of suffering indirectly. Still, they held open arms to him. He helped rebuild some communities. Spoke with local governments and acted as an unofficial ambassador to the standing Amestrian military in Ishval. He communicated for the people. He learned some Ishvallan, but he wouldn’t call himself conversational yet. Maybe when he returned he would seriously try mastering the language. 

He wondered if this was something he could spend his life doing. Should he try becoming an official ambassador and help make some big changes? Be with the government just under a different job? Last time he was too concerned with getting his brother’s body back to do anything with his alchemist position. He wasn’t sure, though. This was for consideration after the holiday. Ed pushed it aside in his mind. Later.

Slowly, the train pulled into Central station. It was jarring to see somewhere so familiar after so long. It was considerably colder here and most people were wearing wool winter coats. It had felt like an eternity when Ed woke up early that morning to make his train. He looked up to the big clock and it was already late afternoon. He sighed and sat down on a bench. A few minutes later, someone sat down next to him. He didn’t pay much mind to them.

“Edward, was it not just yesterday we were sitting on a bench like this one?” Ed heard from the person next to him. He knew that voice.

“Mustang. You must be getting really old if your memory is failing that bad” he greeted. He remembered that easy summer day. Going around Central with Mustang with his stupid Panama hat. Sitting down in the park at sunset. He decided to look over and study Mustang. He looked pretty much the same. Same dark, short cut hair. High cheekbones. Dark circles under his eyes. Some things never change.

“I heard from Ms. Rockbell that you’d be passing through Central. I thought that I would surprise you,” he joked lightly as he sat next to him.

“Ah, I’m honored,” Edward joked back. How easy it was to fall back into light conversation even though they hadn’t seen each other for so long. Mustang hadn’t sent any letters. Ed couldn’t make himself be mad about it, though. He had already resigned himself. 

“Seriously, though?” Ed asked. 

“It can never be out of the goodness of my heart. There’s always some catch, they say,” Mustang lamented. He sighed and Ed was surprised to not see any visible cloud. It felt colder than it must have actually been, huh. His sitting posture was straight up with his hands in his lap. Meanwhile, Ed had his arms sprawled out across the top edge of the bench.

“Ms. Rockbell wanted me to pass on that Alphonse made it back safely. She also wanted me to check if you had gotten yourself into any trouble,” Mustang then informed. Ed laughed.

“No trouble this time. I still got some time to fuck shit up, though, how ‘bout it?” Ed asked cheekily. 

“You make that poor woman worry too much,” Mustang remarked. 

“Ha! Winry? She’s fine. She should worry more about her own life.” What he was thinking about in particular was Paninya. Winry should talk to her if they wanna make a life together or something. 

“I was under the impression that you two would settle down some time,” Mustang delivered nonchalantly. If Ed were drinking something, he’d have spat it out. He sat up straight instead and raised his eyebrows as high as they would go.

“What?” Ed asked loudly. He wondered if he was just misunderstanding Mustang’s insinuation. Mustang seemed lost, though. Ed nervously laughed a bit.

“Me and Winry? She’s like my sister! You guys always teased us, but I wasn’t lying when I said we weren’t like that!” Ed yelled out in embarrassment. 

“God, here I was just thinking about Winry and Paninya…” he then muttered. Winry and him? They would absolutely drive each other crazy. They always yelled at each other and got so impatient. She was so career orientated on her gear head shit as well. They’d never see each other. 

“I apologize,” Mustang said. Ed thought that Mustang would just leave, but they sat together in silence. 

“Everyone in Resembool was also way too pushy. Guess there was nothing better to do out there than to stare at cows. Everyone got married at nineteen, had five kids, and no divorces. I don’t know how they all fucking do it. I would go insane,” Ed broke the silence.

“No divorces?” Mustang asked like that was the most interesting thing Ed said. 

“Yeah. I heard there was a scandal a while back where everyone thought this girl poisoned her husband just to get remarried soon after. Turned out he was just allergic to chamomile tea,” Ed snorted. 

“How tragic,” Mustang laughed lightly as well. 

“May I ask who is Paninya?” he then asked.

“Some gear head lady Winry knows. She fuckin’ pick pocketed me the first time we met her, though,” Ed fumed at the memory.

“She must be formidable, then.”

“I guess. If Winry wanted to be with anyone, of course it’d be someone else obsessed with automail. Ugh,” Ed shuddered. If anyone visited their home, it’d just smell like oil and be loud with the sounds of building all the time. There was something kinda nice about that, though, that Ed would never admit. To have a distinct home full of life. In reality, Ed would sooner get a headache than think it’s touching, though. 

“Well, I don’t think I could imagine you settling down anyways,” Mustang admitted. Ed thought about that for a moment.

“Eh, maybe for a year or two. For now, though, I don’t see it either,” Ed agreed.

“That’s not a bad thing,” Mustang said.

“I know, it just kinda feels like I’m going around without a plan. Still,” Ed laughed a little. He wanted to sound casual, but he always felt so open around Mustang. 

“Others choose that as a life plan as well. Believe it or not, but many adults go around without a plan, just in different ways. Like how I’m working upwards with the military, but I’ll never know if I raise above Brigadier General until I do it,” Mustang advised. The statement stunned Ed a bit. It made sense, but Ed wanted to explain it ran so much deeper than that. How it was not the same thing, that it was different. Mustang had so much ambition and drive. He had goals for change. Ed had nothing like that. 

“Huh. I guess you’re right,” was all Ed said. He was still at unrest, but, again, he had resigned himself. 

“But try not to think about it too much right now. I do hope you find some time to enjoy the holidays,” Mustang said honestly. It made Ed feel more unguarded. Fuck, it was way too easy to be relaxed around this fucker. Ed suspected that Mustang had perfected that art so people would feel at ease around him. Or some excuse shit like that.

“No, I think I’m gonna take the first train north and run with nothing but two rifles straight into Drachma,” Ed said dryly. 

“I’m going to take that as you saying that you’ll take it easy,” Mustang responded.

“I know your next train won’t be arriving soon, but, unfortunately, I must depart now. I hope you have safe travels, Edward. Happy Holidays,” Mustang stood up. He towered above Ed. That was not because Ed was short. In fact, Ed had grown considerably since they got Al’s body back! Ed shook his head.

“Yeah. Happy holidays ‘n shit,” Ed bid and waved goodbye. 

He didn’t think about how cold the bench was all by himself. 

When Ed returned home, Al body slammed him with a hug. He talked at a million miles per hour about a million things and Ed asked him to slow down. Winry and Granny gave their greetings and dinner was set up. It was at that point where everyone had finished eating, but they were all talking before the dishes had to be done. Ed was stuffed and ready for bed when Al cornered him in the bathroom.

“Is something up?” Al asked while Ed had a toothbrush in his mouth.

“Uh, I think this toothpaste is like five years old,” Ed responded, trying not to spit all the toothpaste out. He continued brushing.

“No, I meant with you! And ew,” Al pointed at his brother. Ed raised an eyebrow.

“Dude we just got back,” Ed spit out a mouthful of toothpaste and wiped his mouth, “Isn’t it too soon to ask shit like that?”

“I know, but I feel like something is bothering you, so it’s bothering me,” Al admitted. Ed sighed and set his toothbrush down. He ran a hand through his fringe. 

“I just saw a lot of things when I traveled. You did, too. No big deal,” Ed yawned. Al pursed his lips. 

“I’m letting this drop because it’s late. I hope it’s no big deal, though,” Al crossed his arms. The image reminded Ed so much of when Al was little. It was like they were both kids again for a moment.

“Kay. Night.” 

“Paninya gave me this before I left,” Winry took a box out of her desk drawer for the two Elric brothers. They have been talking about presents and Winry was ready to brag. She was smiling giddily. As she opened it, she revealed a set of shining metal tools. Ed saw a new fancy looking wrench and he felt a chill down his spine.

“It’s very...on brand,” Ed commented. Winry glared at him.

“Brother! Well I think it’s considerate and thoughtful!” Al exclaimed. 

“Right? These tools are very high quality! The metal used in them is also very strong and stainless-”

“Stop talking now before you won’t be able to anymore,” Ed put his hands out in a plea. She glared again, but didn’t continue.

“You don’t want to hear about Paninya’s gift to Winry?” Al asked with a lilt to his voice. Ed raised his eyebrow.

“It’s boring as fuck - sorry, Win. Look! I wouldn’t rant for hours about alchemy to you,” Ed said. Winry, sensibly, put her wrench down. Ed breathed a sigh of relief. 

“I guess that’s true, but your alchemy never gave me two fully functional limbs,” She rebutted. Ed kicked her chair with his metal foot and she squealed a bit.

“One functional limb now, gearhead.” Al nodded sheepishly to the side.

“I still consider that a lot to be thankful for! Would you prefer I yank that off of you and have you hop around on one leg?” she threatened.

“I would prefer hopping around on one fucking leg than having to hear you talk about automail in depth ever again!” Ed yelled.

“Now, brother, I think you’re being a bit irrational-”

“I’ll do it right now! Stick your leg out! Oh, so now you’re backing out? Coward!”

“I’m not a fucking coward, I’m just not fucking insane like you!”

“Brother!”

“I won’t fucking take that back- Winry. Put...put that down. Please.” Ed’s eyes were wide with terror as he backed up. 

“Put that down. I know you don’t want to, please-” Winry brought her wrench down with incredible speed and power. Ed crumpled to the ground, hands cradling his head.

“Oh my god!” Al exclaimed.

“Is he unconscious? I might have hit him too hard…” The two of them bent down to check on Edward. He remained still.

“Edward Elric. National hero. Dies early, tragic death by wrench.” Al wiped an invisible tear from his eye. Ed quickly sat up.

“I’m alive, you fuckers! Ah HEY-” Winry whacked him again. Ed fell back down again into a silent paint.

“Why’d you hit him again?” Al asked incredulously.

“You two are too much.” Winry sighed and packed her tools away.

Later, Ed sat by the window with an ice pack on his head. He stared at the snow falling on the countryside. All white. Far as the eye could go. He sighed. He hadn’t thought about Mustang for a while. Then suddenly, he saw the guy for a ten minute conversation and now he can’t stop thinking about him. In the silent moments, he fills Ed’s thought. What would Mustang think about this? He would have found this funny or that interesting. Ed wished Mustang was sitting there next to him. He didn’t even wish he was there so they could talk. He wished that they could just sit next to each other, staring at the snow with the fire crackling in the background. He couldn't recall any other time his mind was so fixated on the man. It was unprecedented. It was just like Mustang to waltz into Ed’s head and get comfortable there despite how unhappy Ed was with it. 

“What are you thinking about?” Al asked, but Ed jumped up in surprise.

“Jeez, Al, when did you get there?” he asked with a hand over his chest. 

“What are you thinking about?” Al repeated. 

“I dunno? I was just spacing off I guess,” Ed defended. 

“You’ve been doing that a lot.

“Yeah, well I’ve got a lot to think about…” Ed trailed off as he shifted in the armchair he was sitting in. He put both legs over the left arm and propped himself up on the right arm. 

“Anything specific? Things you saw on your travels?” Al asked. Ed shrugged.

“Yeah, I dunno. Met a lotta cool people as well.” 

“Anyone special?” Al joked lightly. Ed couldn’t find himself to stop his blush though.

“Dude, don’t even say that,” and thoughts of Mustang returned.

“What? I’m just asking,” Al replied.

“That’s too weird to talk about. There’s no one, regardless,” Ed responded vehemently. 

Al furrowed his eyebrows deeply. He looked very serious.

“Brother, did you meet someone?” he asked. 

“What do you mean?” Ed squinted at his brother. His heart was racing, though. It was like Al to see through him, but this was something he did not want his brother knowing about. He was going to get over it, anyways, so there was no point for Al to ever know. 

“Firstly, ever since you came back you’ve been oddly spaced out. I thought it was just your journey or the things you discovered, but you never talk about that. You sighed as if something was bothering you,” Al started to rant.

“Hold up! That doesn’t prove anything-”

“Secondly, you had close to no reaction to Winry’s relationship with Paninya. You did not exhibit any jealousy or anger. This means that you likely harbor no more romantic feelings for her, so who could it be?” Al continued.

“Ha! Romantic feeling? That’s ridiculous. How do you even know-”

“Thirdly, when I teased about ‘someone special,’ you reacted violently and denied it vehemently which is characteristic of you when you like someone,” Al concluded. Ed suddenly had no words. 

“What the fuck?” was all he could manage to say. The only words in his mind. 

“Please, if there’s someone, please talk to me about it. If there’s something going on, I want to help,” Al pleaded sincerely. Ed stared at him. He was imagining a third eye on his forehead, the fucking psychic. He was looking at Al like he was crazy.

“There’s absolutely nothing going on, you freak. Just forget about it.”

It was days later when Ed received a letter in the mail. He ripped it open curiously, maybe hoping just a little bit that it was from a specific person. The card was made out of a thick, smooth cardstock and had ‘Happy Holidays’ imprinted on the front. 

_Dear Edward,_

_I hope you are enjoying a relaxing holiday back home.I am envious since I will be working from my home while everyone else celebrates, but they say that there’s no rest for the wicked. Please give my best wishes to everyone._

_Sincerely,_

_Mustang_

_PS: I also hope you do not dwell on your concerns at this point in time. Once the holidays are over, we could talk if you still feel distressed._

Ed was grinning ear to ear. It was so short. The writing was impersonal - it could have been sent to anyone really. Ed wasn’t disappointed somehow. He hadn’t received any letters from Mustang for a long time and he had gotten used to that. He had a letter now, though. He could tell Mustang used neater handwriting than usual. And the letter had been addressed to ‘Edward.’ The ‘w’ was curved in a stupid looking way that looked typical of Mustang. The post script was also proof that Mustang was still thinking about Ed. He offered to talk later...Ed tried coming up with excuses like how they had a preexisting correspondence, so specifically writing to ‘Edward’ had a precedent. Or how writing to every single person would have been a lot of extra work and Mustang hates extra work. The curvy ‘w’ stuck out on the page, though. Ed was overthinking it. His stupid fucking brain. 

“Who sent that letter to you, Ed?” Winry asked later.

“Oh, just Mustang. An obligatory holiday letter, you know? For everyone. Super boring,” Ed stuttered a bit. 

“Oh, he said happy holidays to all of us. By the way,” he added. Winry just nodded and continued folding laundry. But Al had stared at him for a moment too long. From across the room, it was obvious the way Al’s eyes squinted just a bit suspiciously. Ed was sure he was blushing. Ah, fuck! He could feel how hot his face was and he couldn’t control it. Was it obvious? Maybe in the dim lighting he wouldn’t notice? And he was so far away...Al looked away, but Ed still felt a dread. It was just one moment. 

That night, pen and paper stared at Ed from the desk. He tried writing a response to Mustang’s letter.

_Hey Mustang,_

_Thanks for the holiday letter! Everyone appreciates the season's greetings. I wouldn’t mind talking once the holidays are over. I have a lot on my mind. I know you said they shouldn’t bother me right now, they kinda do._

Ed stared at the paper. He wasn’t sure what to write anymore. His mind whirred with worries. 

_I always thought that life just happens. For as long as I can remember, life was always just getting to the next thing. Keep moving forward. Survive this and I’ll make the rest up later. The future was always so far away. Now that I’m here, I don’t know what to do. I won’t pretend that I don’t know how aimless I am, but at the same time I don’t want to accept that._

The letter devolved into something Ed would never send. Once he accepted the fact that no one would read this, he let his thoughts flow freely onto the paper. He actually surprised himself with his candidness. 

_I wish I was content with something simple. Waking up to the sound of birds chirping in the morning. Going to town to get groceries. Staring at the ceiling at night. Instead I kept wondering if that was it. That the moment I lost alchemy was the moment my life stopped progressing. What is going to happen now that will matter more than what I did as a teenager? I’m glad that it’s over, but at the same time I don’t think I’ve ever moved past it._

_I’ve been searching this whole time. I've tried to fill something inside of me by researching and meeting other people - I have enjoyed my travels - but the birds are so loud in the morning. I go from place to place because I have nowhere to go back to. Why do I keep wanting to go back to Central? I kept thinking there was nothing for me there - I said goodbye already, but I keep comparing everywhere I go to Central. The people. I want to help people. I want to continue helping our people._

_Strangely enough, I want to help you. I’ve really truly enjoyed your letters and I would never ever admit that actually. I felt so alone wandering, but you were a constant. I’ve come to value your thoughts and opinions. Even though it’s just over writing, I feel like you carefully consider mine._

_A woman once told me to find my anchor if I felt lost. My anchor, it’s not a place or a home. I think it’s you._

_Sincerely,_

_Edward_

“No way I’m ever gonna send this,” he said to himself, yet he didn’t throw it away. He wasn’t gonna send it...he wrote ‘To: Roy’ on the envelope and curled the ‘y,’ but it ended up looking pretty shitty. He sighed and he tied it up neatly with the rest of his letters.

The Rockbell-Elric new year’s tradition dictated that they stay up all night to see the first sunrise of the year. Granny went to bed at her usual time while the rest of the house got ready to stay awake for the next twelve hours. For Winry, it was pretty easy. She’s a freak and pulls all nighters on the regular, so staying up until six am wasn’t the worst she’d been through. For Ed and Al, it was a little bit harder. Ed managed easier than Al, but past 3 AM was the most brutal. 

“I think Al fell asleep again,” Winry noted while stirring her bowl. They made custard, another new year’s tradition. They worked on it while dead tired and ate it with eyelids drooping. It always tasted better than it probably actually was.

“‘M awake…” Al trailed off. He was curled up on a chair with a pillow. 

“I’m gonna come over there and hit you on the head if you don’t get up,” Ed called across the kitchen. Al only nodded his head. 

“I think the custard is ready. Can you grab bowls?” Winry asked. The three of them sat on comfortable chairs eating in silence. Ed sunk back into his chair and felt a wave of tiredness hit him. 

“Ed, are you dozing off?” Al asked. He thought he'd be more awake with sugar in his system. He felt drowsiness at the edges of his mind, though.

“No fucking way,” Ed defended. He could feel the sweet tug of sleep right behind his eyelids. With each moment, he felt more comfortable in that soft chair. It felt like slowly floating downwards until his eyes shut. It had only felt like he slept for moments, but when Al shook his awake, the sky was becoming a light blue. Not sunrise yet, but getting there.

“Ed, wake up,” Al shook him again.

“I’m awake,” Ed murmured. He rubbed his eyes a little and looked around. He didn’t see Winry, but she was probably just doing her own thing. Like she was in her room or something. His head was still cloudy.

“Brother, I have undergone sincere and serious consideration,” Al began. Al kept speaking, but Ed wasn’t internalizing any of it. The feeling of his burning eyes overtook everything. He heard bits and pieces. Every other word kinda. 

“...seem very distracted...experiencing multiple problems...the rest of this holiday won’t be fulfilling...won’t confide in me...” 

“Can we talk about this later?” Ed groaned. Winry would miss the sunrise if she didn’t show up soon.

“Are you even listening to me?” Al asked. Ed gave him a look and Al sighed.

“From the bottom of our hearts, and as your brother, you are kicked out of the house,” Al said definitively and pulled a full suitcase out of nowhere. It was Ed’s suitcase.

“What the fuck?” Ed asked, instantly waking up. Was Al joking? Was this some kind of new year’s prank because Ed fell asleep for so long?

“Maybe if you were listening, you would have understood my reasoning,” Al waved his finger. Ed was stunned, now very awake.

“Did you get into Granny’s liquor? Are you fully sane right now? You’re joking.” Ed did not find it very funny.

“You can’t change my mind on this! I believe you’d be better off taking the first train out of here. Probably to Central. And that train arrives in two hours!” Al exclaimed. Ed continued staring at him.

“Did _I_ get into Granny’s liquor?” he asked and pinched himself. He felt the pain, but it could be dream pain.

“I have packed your suitcase. We expect you gone and on that train,” Al ordered him. 

“Wait, why? You’ve got to be kidding me, Al!” Ed pleaded.

“You can’t expect me to suddenly jump on a train in the ass crack of the morning! I’ve got nowhere to go and, fuck, all the hotels are probably booked in Central! You’ve got to understand that. Just let me stay and we’ll sort this out later at a reasonable time.” Al shook his head to that. 

“This is final, Brother.” 

“Are you ignoring reason? Are you fucking insane?” Ed was yelling, but took a shaky breath.

“Listen...I’ll get on this fucking train or whatever another time. We still gotta watch the sunrise together, right? You can’t force me to go now. If I go to Central now, there’s nowhere I can go. You’ve got to understand that,” Ed pleaded for reason. Al didn’t budge.

“Where’s Winry? What does she have to say about this?” Ed asked.

“I asked her for privacy, but she agrees with me,” he responded.

“What the fuck?” Ed yelled.

Ed found himself shoved outside with his suitcase.

“Enjoy your trip!” Al and Winry said smiling before slamming the door shut. He started to hit the door. 

“Wait! Let me fucking back inside! You guys have completely fucking lost it!” Ed continued to yell, but they didn’t respond. The early morning chill made Ed shiver and pull his coat closer to himself.

“It’s fucking winter! It’s ass degrees cold outside!” he yelled. Of course, they felt no pity for his plight. 

“They’ve lost it...they’re fucking lunatics…” Ed mumbled as he walked to the train station. Hah. ‘Train station.’ More like one fucking bench and a single train that passes by. It was nothing like what Central has. Ed didn’t even believe that the trains were still going. Certainly not on a holiday and especially not out to Resembool. Nothing would arrive and they would have to let him back inside. But lo and fucking behold, a train pulled up. And that’s how Ed spent his new year’s sunrise. Sitting in a mostly empty train and staring at it through the window. His eyes were burning from sleep deprivation and he was cold all over. Most of all, he was absolutely seething.

“I am going to fucking kill them when I get back,” he mumbled to himself. With the rising of the sun, Ed felt his weariness come back. So, he closed his eyes and slowly fell asleep.


	7. Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Thank you so much to all those who patiently waited for this last chapter to come out. I'm a little late on it since moving back into my dorm was crazy with quarantine and covid tests, but I'm finally settled down and was like "oh shit! I have to post the last chapter!" I did write this story a while back and might not write any more RoyEd in the future (who knows, that might change) since right now I'm really into the Dream SMP fandom, but feel free to check out my other works if you enjoyed this one!

Ed was still in a state of absolute fucking disbelief. The sun was much higher in the sky, but he still felt like he was sitting in the Rockbell house. There was no explanation! It was-....it wasn’t out of character for Al to be this cruel. Ed didn’t even want to think about what he’d do once he got to Central. He didn’t know where he would fucking stay but, hey, all is great. Why didn’t he know anyone’s fucking address? He wondered if anything useful was in his suitcase and he opened it up. Clothing, journals,...letters. He kept all of his correspondences. He had nowhere else to keep them. Well, he might as well burn all of Al and Winry’s letters since they were dead to him. He pulled out Mustang’s holiday letter. As he closed his suitcase, he held onto the piece of cardstock. He imagined what it’d be like if Mustang was sitting next to him. Mustang would think this situation was absolutely fucking hilarious. It’d be more manageable with someone else by Ed’s side. Mustang would wax poetry about the golden sun of new years. Ed would mention a song he heard as a kid about a golden city. The seat beside him was empty and cold. He decided to look down at the letter he was holding. He examined the penmanship again. The looped ‘w.’ As he turned the card over, Mustang’s address became glaringly obvious. His house...in Central. He felt a sudden dread in his chest. No fucking way could he do it. At the same time, he was too annoyed to feel excited. ‘Sorry, there’s nowhere else I can go’...No, he couldn’t do it. He’d be such a bother to Mustang who was _working_ over the holiday. Actually, knowing Mustang, he probably wasn’t doing much of anything - but the point remained that Ed couldn’t. 

And yet, when he arrived in Central, he stood in the station for a couple of minutes. He couldn’t think of any other solutions (or maybe he didn’t want any other solutions). His heart raced at the thought of seeing Mustang again. It wasn’t like that last time. When he saw Mustang at this very spot not too long ago, Ed had not thought about the guy for months. He had resigned himself to forgetting about Mustang, but seeing him again...it reminded Ed of everything he once felt. He couldn’t stop thinking about him. Mustang plagued all of his fucking thoughts. He was in an actual emergency and still his thoughts were merciless. He straightened his back, squared his shoulders, and took his steps in large strides. He was thinking frantically of what to say and how to explain this. ‘Al and Winry lost their fucking minds and kicked me out of the house. They forced me to go on a train...well, not really forced me. I got onto the train because I was sleep-deprived and confused. I guess I could have handled that better. But this is the only place I could think of to go...even though I could check the hotels to see if they have any rooms, but they’d probably be booked. It’d be a waste of my time. If I could just stay here until I sorted everything out, I would be grateful. I promise not to be a piece of shit...ok, I promise to be 50% less piece of shit…’ His head was not silent for a moment until he reached the place. The house. More like a mansion. It was big and nice looking. The architecture looked old. Vines were growing over the bricks and the window sills were pristine white. 

Ed’s head was blank. He couldn’t remember a single fucking thing that he just thought. Nothing. No thoughts. All he knew was that he couldn’t bring himself to knock on the door. Mustang wouldn’t want to see him, let alone let him stay. Or worse, he wasn’t even home and Ed really was stranded. The thought panicked him and he brought himself to knock timidly. Blood rushed in his ears. After a moment, he wondered if Mustang heard and he knocked again louder. Nothing continued to happen which made Ed’s worries increase by the second. No one was gonna come. Al and Winry were crazy. Ed was stranded. Mustang didn’t care about him. He was gonna spend new year’s day freezing cold in the city and die of hypothermia in a ditch-

The door opened to reveal an exceptionally tired-looking Mustang. That was a statement because Mustang always looked tired. This, however, was a new extreme. It was like Mustang had forgone sleep entirely. Ed was at a loss for words.

“Edward?” Mustang asked sleepily. He kept blinking his eyes like it burned to keep them open. The words still escaped Ed, but he opened his mouth anyway.

“I have a bit of a problem,” he started. Mustang sighed and stepped aside.

“Come inside. It’s cold,” he offered. Ed timidly crossed the threshold. They ended up sitting at the table with some fresh coffee.

“What is it this time? Bandits? Assassins? A broken-hearted woman?” Mustang asked.

“Even tired you’re an asshole,” Ed retorted. His hands around the coffee mug were uncomfortably hot, but he kept them there anyway. He gave a big sigh.

“Ok, so it’s nothing as serious as that. It’s really just a little problem,” Ed began. He searched for a way to coherently explain the absolute bullshit he was in. 

“A little problem for a little-”

“Don’t you finish that fucking sentence!” Ed yelled. It was too early in the morning for this.

“Basically, Alphonse woke me up this morning and said that I had to leave the house. I tried arguing with him or asking why, but he didn’t explain anything and was really fucking resolute on it. Winry was with him and they kicked me out with nothing but a train ticket and my suitcase,” Ed began.

“It’s not the oddest situation you’ve been in,” Mustang commented.

“It was pretty fucking odd of Al to be so random! Anyways, I was on the train and I realized that all the hotels were probably fucking full and I didn’t know where to go,” Ed admitted, his face a little bit hotter.

“So you came here?” Mustang asked.

“No, I decided to sleep under a bench until Al decided I could come home. I obviously came here you dumbass,” Ed yelled back. Mustang stayed expressionless as he thought for a moment. 

“Well, of course, you’re allowed to stay here. Don’t look so shocked,” Mustang responded. 

“What do you mean by ‘of course’?” Ed asked.

“You’re in a predicament at the whims of your capricious brother and friend. I have more than enough room in my house. Stay as long as you need,” Mustang said. 

“Wow, unexpected graciousness from Mustang of all people. I would tell Al immediately if I didn’t want to gut him,” Ed responded. Mustang sighed again and pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“I mean, thanks, Mustang! It’s nice to be back in Central, but sadly in such a shitty circumstance,” Ed said. 

“Not the worst you’ve been through.”

Ed simply grimaced. Not the worst, but maybe he’d prefer rotting in the snow of Drachma at that moment. 

“...Let’s prepare you a room.” Mustang offered. Ed couldn’t help looking around as they walked throughout the house. Everything was neat and organized, yet not too impersonal. There were photographs and art in places. Lots of books. Ed was sitting on the huge bed with his suitcase sitting beside him. Mustang had left to do whatever it was that concerned Brigadier Generals on new years. It was quieter than usual. Few people were out and about, but it was still busier than Resembool. Ed got up to look out the window and the view was full of buildings. The neighborhood looked nice. Ed groaned. He had only been there for a short while, but he felt antsy and wanted to get out. He stared at the smooth, white ceiling. It was way too fucking quiet. 

“Mustang, I’m gonna go out for a little while,” Ed yelled down the hair. 

“Do you have any laundry you need to have done?” Mustang asked. 

“What?”

“I’m doing laundry today. If you happen to have anything, I can do it for you,” Mustang stepped out of his office with a laundry basket.

“Uh, could you grab some of the shirts outta my suitcase? I would, but I’m right out the door, man. Bye!” Ed yelled back as he ran downstairs. He needed some space this second. The cold from outside greeted him with a bitter chill. Everywhere was closed, but Ed was fine with just walking around. The world was strange around him. All the buildings were recognizable, but all closed. The usually full streets were almost empty. A layer of frost covered everything.

Ed’s heart was racing. He was giddy in a strange way to be around Mustang. And he was being so nice despite the fact that Ed basically dive-bombed his holiday. He shook his head. Mustang was just being polite, however rare that was for him. Ed shouldn’t take it as anything personal. But for some fucking reason, he wanted to tell Mustang so bad. Thoughts burned inside his head. They burned inside his chest. He wanted to just...tell him how much he matters to him. How much he cares. But that was a horrible fucking idea! It couldn’t be stressed how bad it would be. Mustang would be horrified. Or amused and make fun of Ed. Or he would kick Ed out to the streets. It’d be a shit show for Ed no matter how Mustang would react. Fuck the burning. Ed would rather keep it inside of him than be mortified. Ed stopped slow his pace until he came to a stop. He’d get lost at this rate. Or freeze solid. He turned around and walked back, each step filled with dread. 

“I’m back!” Ed yelled to the big house. There was no response as he took off his shoes. He scrunched up his eyebrows.

“Hey? Mustang?” Ed yelled out again. He slowly walked from room to room, but the guy wasn’t anywhere to be seen. A worry seized Ed that something might have happened to Mustang.

“Mustang?” He yelled a bit more concerned. He opened the door to the room he was staying in and jumped when he saw Mustang.

“Fuck! Ah, you scared me...being so quiet and shit,” Ed said. 

“You kept all the letters,” Mustang murmured.

“Huh?” Ed asked. Mustang turned around to face him.

“You kept all the letters from our correspondence,” Mustang said.

“Why are you looking at those?” Ed exclaimed. His embarrassment burned.

“I was grabbing your laundry,” Mustang breathed out. 

“Oh...well, I keep all the letters I get, I dunno…” Ed’s voice was unsteady. Were he younger, he was sure it would have cracked. 

“Did you know that I wrote a lot of letters that I never sent to you?” Mustang said.

“Uh, me too?” Ed responded. Ed looked down at what Mustang was holding. A cold panic ran through his entire body. An envelope with ‘To Roy’ on the front with the ‘y’ messily looped. His own holiday letter than he never sent.

“Did you go through my stuff?” Ed yelled and reached out to grab it. Mustang dodged.

“You asked me to grab your shirts for laundry!” Mustang yelled back.

“Did you fucking read that?” 

“It has my name on it?”

“It was none of your fucking business!”

“Look!” Mustang picked up a small stack of letters and shoved them in Ed’s face. Ed squinted. They were all addressed with his name on each one. His eyebrows furrowed together.

“The fuck?” Ed asked. Mustang visibly swallowed.

“I wrote letters. That I never sent,” he repeated what he had said earlier. He shoved the letters in Ed’s hands. Silently, Ed raised an eyebrow at him. Mustang seemed expectant. Ed slipped one out of the pile and opened it.

_Edward,_

For some reason, Ed was anxious to read it. Mustang’s nervous energy was radiating and making Ed uneasy. He looked up to Mustang and back down to the letter. 

_I know you are still young and figuring life out. You keep reiterating a sense of lostness or restlessness. I want to help, but my advice is worth shit. I would want you to come back to Amestris and stay in Central. I would say you’re needed here and have many friends already. You don’t deserve to be confined, though. Objectively, it would be better for you to keep traveling and see the world. Maybe you will find someone or even stay with Ms. Rockbell someday. Someone more like yourself and your own age._

_I’ll be spending the rest of my life making up for the mistakes of my youth. Why should you be tethered to that?_

Ed realized his hands were gripping the paper tightly. He couldn’t hear anything other than the blood rushing in his ears. His racing heart. He felt light-headed.

_I have so little to offer. I think of you constantly even in the shortest of moments. Your words return to me. Words of concern over my sleep and health. Words of comfort about identity and culture. Words of confirmation. I particularly think about the line you wrote about my concerns over my own mixed-race:_ “Just focus on who you are now. Fuck whatever you’re ‘missing’ - you grew up exactly as you should.” _I wish we could talk like this in person, but there’s always a barrier that prevents our honesty. So, I choose to imagine you’re here with me instead. Even with you just in my mind, the room is brightened. I miss you. I want to see you, but I am reminded and reminded._

_You are easygoing and a people person. Everyone laughs with you. They all adore you. I feel as though I am watching from the sidelines for you care so little about me. How small I am in your life when you mean so much to me._

_I understand what you need and so I’m willing to let go. To let you be happy with someone else - probably Winry. Live a life and find a fulfilling job without me. I can’t see my future without you. Rationally I know it’s unrealistic, but I still see you there. You, fantastically, returning to me. Choosing me despite all our hardships and tension. I fear I shall never meet another who makes me feel like you do. There is no one else as special as you are._

_Love,_

_Roy_

Ed couldn’t believe what he had just read. Was this a joke?

“Ah, when did you...write this?” Ed asked hoarsely.

“That one? Shortly before the Drachma incident,” Mustang responded. Ed wanted to laugh dryly. So Mustang did write a letter after all...he just never sent it. Ed couldn’t laugh, though. He wanted to laugh to disperse the situation and distance himself from the reality of it. What was this bullshit? 

“Why did you never tell me?” Edward asked.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Mustang asked in turn.

“Hey! Of course, I never fucking said anything. I thought that you thought I was an annoying shit for the longest time! I still feel like you’re making this up to mock me!” Ed yelled.

“I’m not making this up. I mean every word. All the words in those letters,” Mustang nodded his head towards the small stack. They were heavy in Ed’s hands.

“How long?” Ed asked. It was vague, but he hoped Mustang would understand without Ed having to spell it out. 

“I can’t place it. I was unaware for so long, but then I suddenly became aware of the intensity of my emotions,” Mustang responded.

“That’s weird,” Ed cringed. 

“I apologize.”

“No, sorry, I...always kinda...when we first met, I...you know what I mean.” Ed’s face felt like a hot stove. An oven. Someone could throw an egg at his face and it would cook. He was so embarrassed that he wanted to die.

“Do I know?” Mustang asked smugly.

“Don’t ask any fucking questions!” Ed yelled and ran a hand through his hair.

“I’m laying my heart out to you, Edward.” Mustang delivered nonchalantly.

“I’m sorry! I don’t know how to react,” Ed admitted. He still felt lightheaded. 

“Me either.” Ed wanted to run his hands through his hair again but stopped himself from fidgeting.

“Does this mean...you like me? Or some shit?” Ed finally forced himself to ask.

“Yes. I am irrevocably and unequivocally in love with you.” Mustang, again, said it with cool ease.

“It’s weird when you say it like that!” Ed yelled at Mustang.

“Sorry. Also, I wrote a lot of those while drunk, so excuse the misspellings or grammar errors,” Mustang said.

“Classy,” Ed muttered. There was an awkward silence. Ed looked at Mustang’s face.

“I missed you. The entire time I was traveling,” Ed told him.

“I missed you, too.” Wordlessly, it was Ed that reached out for Mustang and he tentatively took him in his arms. Ed could hear Mustang’s racing heartbeat. He felt comfortable and safe.

“Did you ever do the laundry?”

“Well, I was a little busy…”

Ed was back in Resembool. He studied his surroundings because he knew he wouldn’t be returning for a long time. Not unless something big happened or his automail needed a fix. He walked up to the Rockbell house to knock on the door, but it opened to reveal Winry.

“Ed! I’m glad you got back safe,” she smiled. He rolled his eyes.

“No thanks to you,” he said dryly. She just laughed. When he got inside, he saw Al.

“Why did you need me to come back? Do you know how much I’ve traveled in the last week?” Ed asked violently. Al started to laugh as well. Everyone here thought this was a fucking joke.

“Well, brother, you still have a lot of stuff here you probably want to retrieve. I’m also leaving soon, so I wanted to say goodbye!” Al exclaimed. Ed groaned.

“You’re wasting my time. I don’t even want to say goodbye,” which wasn’t true, but Al knew that.

“It’s so nice to see you back here!” Al responded.

“Then why the fuck did you kick me out in the first place?” Ed yelled.

“ I figured you need some time away from us. Maybe with someone else,” Al’s voice was playful.

“Oh my god,” Ed groaned and slapped a hand to his forehead.

“How is Mustang doing?” Winry asked. Ed wanted to die.

“He’s got the flu and he’s going to die.”

“How tragic!” Al said.

“Fuck off. It’s none of your guys’s business,” Ed crossed his arms.

“Did you know what you were doing? When you kicked me out?” Ed asked. He had his suspicions, but how would Al have even known? His brother had his ways, but it seemed like too much of a whim.

“Haha. That. I might have read the letter he sent you. When I saw that you omitted the postscript, it seemed suspicious and matched my other theories!” Al explained. Ed wanted to throttle him.

“You sent me out on such a whim! You dipshit!” Ed yelled. Al patted him on the shoulder and Winry handed him a bag. He looked inside and saw all of his stuff. Some of his anger fizzled out.

“Well, if you really wanna know, I’m gonna be staying with him from now on. I definitely want to return to Ishval to finish what I’ve started, but I’ll be returning to Central regularly,” Ed explained. He didn’t show it, but he was content with the arrangement. Roy’s house was nice and big enough for the two of them.

“Make sure to update me on everything with some letters,” Al instructed. Ed nodded and sighed.

“I am...so tired of sending letters. But sure,” Ed responded. What a small little thing he made a habit of. He spent time sitting down and writing to the ones he cared about. He was also able to connect with Roy in that way. It was kind of incredible.

“I think someone’s out there waiting for you to get back in the car,” Winry teased. Ed rolled his eyes again.

“Yeah, it was nice seeing you guys, too. Goodbye,” Ed waved and exited the house. He smiled as he saw Roy leaning on the side of the car. He seemed more carefree than usual. Ed was relieved to see that his dark circles were lightening.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Ed greeted.

“I drove you here,” Roy retorted. Ed laughed and kissed him on the cheek.

“I hope you have enjoyed your tour of the countryside and all the nothing it has to offer,” Ed said as he got in the passenger seat.

“It has actually been nice,” Roy started the car.

“Do you really want to go back to Central so soon?” he then asked. 

“Yeah. I don’t see any reason to stay longer than necessary,” Ed said. Roy drove down the road and their long trip began. It took way longer to drive than to go by train, but Roy was excited by the concept of a long road trip. 

“When are you planning to leave for Ishval?” Roy asked.

“Not soon. I think I could use some time staying in one place. But when I do get back, I have a lot of big plans,” Ed responded.

“The people are going to think that I’m forcing you and cry ‘nepotism!’” Roy laughed.

“You should promote me to the rank of state alchemist again and watch everyone go wild,” Ed laughed with him.

“Ugh, I don’t want to think about state alchemists right now,” Roy groaned.

“Kay. Let’s focus on going back home,” Ed responded. 

Home.

There was a warmness in Ed’s chest. It felt like relief. Belonging. He didn’t feel like an intrusion to Roy. He felt an ease that he hadn’t felt in a long time.

He won't be living in the house all the time. Ed definitely wants to continue traveling, but with renewed purpose. He’s going to continue his volunteering and his humanitarian work in Ishval. Maybe he’ll even return to Aerugo or Creta some day….not Drachma for a long time. Maybe Xing. Maybe even beyond these countries into the unknown.

Then, whenever Ed feels like he needs to go home or he needs somewhere to escape to, he knows where he can go. To brick with vines and white window sills. Roy, opening the door for him and letting him inside.

Roy would always be there for Ed to come home to.


End file.
